Lost
by Pyro and Darnet co
Summary: *sequel to When We Were Young* Every once in a while a survivour is born, someone who won't give up when things go wrong, who won't back down but sometimes these survivours are lost. It's hard to find them once they're gone, we know that from experience.
1. Chapter 1

**You don't need to read When We Were Young to get the story, it pretty much explains everything as it goes on. WWWY was one of our first fanfics and it's not that great and our spelling and grammar is pretty bad. It started off as a bit of fun but then we had the idea for this story and we started to take WWWY a bit more seriously towards the end of the fanfic. Lost will hopefully be much better and we might go back and re-write WWWY again to make it better but anyway, this is the first chapter of Lost.**

CHAPTER 1: HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

WPOV  
The best feeling in the world is flying; feeling weightless is the clear blue sky. I shut my eyes for a small period of time, letting the wind kiss my cheeks, letting it gild through my feathers.  
"Wolfie open your eyes, you are freaking me out." Fang said, Fang was the closest thing I had to a family. I opened my eyes and looked at his midnight black hair, his eyes so brown they were almost black. Black was my brothers favourite colour, I don't have one. He was in completely black, as was eye all except my bright blue converse.  
"Sorry Fang." I don't normally talk much, I had learnt not to but I could around him. As Fang may not be related to me by blood but he was my brother.  
"It's ok, I just don't want a pancake for a sister." I rolled my eyes at him and looked down, we were flying over a forest, its tree's compact together and it was eerie but beautiful at the same time. The beauty was gone as soon as I heard a blood curdling scream that sounded like a child's.  
"We need to help!"  
"Wolfie we have no idea where they are!" I scanned using my sharpened vision to locate the source of the scream.  
"THERE!" I pointed at a small gap a little girl had run into, she looked no older than six maybe seven. Her golden locks caught the sun light, like a halo surrounding her making her look to be an angel.  
"You know what to do." I nodded and swooped down into the trees, once there I transformed into the animal that had given me my name. I had been able to do this for as long as I could remember, once in my wolf state I ran through the trees and peered out. A beast that haunted my nightmares stood in front of the little girl, her big blues eye was wide with utter terror. The wolf like creature stood there, it had a human grace about it. The way it spoke, the way it stood on its hind quarters made in all the more sinister. An Eraser gave an evil smirk, the girl retreated as fast as she could but her back came up against the tree next to where I was hiding. The Eraser laughed  
"Little Birdie got no place left to run." As his clawed had reached skywards I pounced. landing on his chest, normally this would just throw him off balance slightly but the surprise of the attack made me lucky. He fell with a sicking thud to the hard forest ground, letting out a roar of furry her stood up, I was ready. I bit furiously into his leg with my fangs; he let out a howl of pain and started to swipe at me. I just bit harder, he screamed threw me off him and forgot all about the prey he was hunting, he ran or well limped away. I let out a howl, a signal to Fang that I was alright and the Eraser had been defeated. I turned to the girl her head was titled and she was looking at me, a smile plastered on her face.  
"You saved me, you saved me. I'm Angel by the way" she was hugging me her face buried in my fur, I wanted to tell her my name was Wolfie but animals can't talk. "Hello Wolfie." I let out a yelp, shocked that she knew my name. She giggled "I can read minds." I nodded and thought back to her 'are you with anybody?'

"I have a flock; we got separated during the attack. Can you stay with me until I find them?" 'hold the scruff of my neck so we don't get separated.' She reached and touched my smooth fur, I listened out for slight movement and halted when angry shouts were heard.  
"I left you in charge of her Iggy! You! Now she's out there with Erasers after her!" it was a girl's voice, I let out a growl and Angel looked down at me.  
"Max I'm sorry but think about it you left a B-L-I-N-D kid in charge! It was bound to happen." The guy sound desperate.  
"Are you trying to turn this into a joke?"  
"Max lay off Iggy." It was a different girl's voice now. Angel let of a squeal and ran to the still holding on to me.  
"ANGEL!" a girl with dirty blond hair screamed, I didn't exactly trust her and stood in front of Angel baring my teeth, she stopped in her tracks.  
"Wolfie stop! That's Max, she a part of my flock, just like I told you." Cried Angel, Max looked at me and then to Angel.  
"We can't have another animal come with us Angel, Total was enough to last a life time." I was insulted, I was not a pet. I snapped at her and she took a step back,

"Max, Wolfie saved me from an Eraser." Angel was pouting, I howled twice. This told Fang to come and get me now.

"OW! What was that?" said a boy (probably the blind one) with his hands over his ears.

"The dog," a girl with blond hair and bluey green eyes eyes said. There was also another little boy about eight maybe nine who looked like Angel and a girl with tanned skin and big brown eyes.  
"She's not a dog Blade, she's a wolf." Angel stated in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Wolfs are part of the dog family." Blade snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. Angel rolled her eyes.  
"OMG she's so pretty look at those blue eyes oh Max can we keep please oh please!" The last girl said. Max was about to reply when Fang came running into the clearing,  
"There you are Wolfie I was getting wo…." He stopped and looked wide eyed at Angel's flock

"Fang, we were wondering where your traiterous head ended up." Blade spoke with a voice full of pure hatred "Personaly I was hoping an eraser had eaten it but I guess we can't always get what we want."

What's going on Fang?" I asked, now in my human form. All of Angel's flock jumped about a foot in the air, this is why I don't like talking much.

"Who the hell are you?" Max screamed, the blind boy winced and the little boy glared at me. Blade stepped in front of Angel and the last girl left looked from me to Fang and back to the flock.

"Wolfie this is my old flock, the one I told you about." Fang was standing in front of me, the blocks clicked into place. He had told me about his old flock, there was Max, Iggy, Blade, The Gasman and Angel. Why didn't I remember that?

"OK spare some thought for the blind kid and tell me what the hell is happening!" Iggy screamed, I looked at the rest of them.

"Well as you know the low life called Fang has come out of hiding and Angel's little wolf friend just turned into a person. You know the usual." Blade sneered, Iggy's mouth hung open, a look of utter disbelief plastered on his features. Fang was about to defend us (Or well I hope he was) when a maniacal laugh was heard. Fang shoved me behind him, I looked to see an Eraser, teeth bared appearing in the clearing.  
"Hello little birdies, do you want to play!"  
"RUN!" I screamed as I snapped my wings open, the rest of them coping my movements. We flew up into the air, gathering speed. I thought we were going to get away, until I saw an Eraser raise a clawed paw at Angel. "NO!" I yelled, I pushed Angel out the way as the paw hit me. Everything seemed the slow down as I lost altitude, my world turned into blackness.  
"Wolfie!" was the last thing I heard before I was out cold

-o-O-o-

"Is it dead?"  
"She is not an It Lavender, she is a she!" where was I? I let out a groan, every part of me ached. I opened my eyes, everything was blurry. I closed them again, not liking the aching in my head.  
"Hello, can you here me." Came the voice of a boy. I opened my eyes again the world had come into focus. A bunch of kids, that looked around my age were leaning over me. They boy who had spoken had the greenest eyes I'd ever seen, black hair and a lighting blot scar on his forehead. Standing beside him was a girl with bushy brown hair and a boy with ginger hair a freckles. I let out a terrified scream and despite the pain I was in somehow managed to stand up and hide behind a massive wooden hut that was nearby. "We aren't going to hurt you." The boy said again, coming closer. I looked around me and picked up the sharpest object I could find, it was a twig.  
"Stay back, I warn you, I'm armed." I yelled back

"What's goin' on?" I looked up and saw the biggest man I had ever set my eyes on. He had a lot of hair covering his head (Mainly because of his beard) I let out another scream and ran into the clearing, dropping my twig.  
"Who are you people?" I screamed. I was terrified "FANG!" a big bored hound came bonding up to me. My eyes widened,  
"Back Fang!" The giant man yelled. I looked to the sky and saw the familiar figure of my brother, behind him were six figures. I let out a sigh of relief as he landed next to me.  
"Wolfie are you ok? Are you hurt?" I looked down, my ankle was twisted in a funny direction and I had a lot of cuts and bruises. I was going to be sore in the morning and as if on cue the pain started in my ankle.  
"OW!" I grabbed my leg and Fang picked me up.  
"Do you have a hospital or something Mister, my sister has had a big fall?" Fang asked the giant.  
"Ar' yeh all togeth'r" I looked at the flock and they nodded "Then fallow me." Fang turned and the sight that met my eyes was magnificent. A castle stood there, its old stone walls had a beauty about them that cannot be described in words. Its stain glass widows shone in the light making an explosion of colours dance on the grass under our feet. I was awe struck, the gaint (note to self: learn his name.) opened the big wooden door and led us through the stunning castle "I'm Hagrid buy th' way, what ar' yer names?"  
"I'm Fang this is Wolfie, Max, Iggy, Blade, Nudge, The Gasman and Angel." He said indicating to each of us as he spoke our names.  
"I like your castle Hagrid." Angel said, her big blue eyes gazing up at him.  
"This isn't my castle. This is a school called Hogwarts." At the name School we call flinched. Although Hogwarts looked nothing like the school it still had bad memories around the name.  
"What type of school? Can we attend?" The Gasman asked  
"Well yeh don't look old enough yeh do. But some o' yeh might, yeh would have to ask Professor Dumbledore yeh would." I looked up and Fang but he was looking straight ahead, his jaw set. "Here yeh ar'." Hagrid opened another door and we were taken into a white room, it had beds in neat rows on each side of the rooms, they had curtains you could pull around if you wanted to privacy (But not if you wanted to talk, I mean a thin sheet of fabric isn't going to stop you listening in.) a women came rushing out, she was wearing a nurses uniform and her hair was put back in a tight bun.

"Hagrid, I just heard. I have to test all them for magically blood and see to the injured girl." she said.

"Right yeh ar' Madam Pomfery, well here they ar'" Madam Pomfery looked at us, her eyes landing on me.

"OH MY MERLIN! You poor child, sit her on the bed now boy, I'll have her fixed in no time." Madam Pomfery pulled out a stick and waved it over me; I was beyond the state of confusion. I felt instantly warm and then the pain was gone. My ankle clicked into place and I was lift with I scare on my side, I looked up in amazement as this miracle of a women smiled down at me. "Now I've done a test and you'll be pleased to know you all have magic in your veins.""Magic!" Nudge yelled

"Magic yes, now the two younger one's can't attend yet but the rest of you can." We all looked at her like she was mad.

"What type of school is this?" asked Iggy.

"My dears welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2: FIRST TIMES

BPOV

"Magic? Is this a practical joke?" asked Fang's little friend

"No this is not a practical joke." said Madame Pomfrey

"Oh my god! Magic? We're all magical! How awesome is that! We get to be witches and wizards! I'm gonna cast spells and ride on a broomstick and be all awesome! This is gon-" Nudge started before Iggy slapped his hand over her mouth

"I'm blind Nudge not deaf, shut up!" he said "Please," he added

"Well done Iggy, you're one step closer to becoming Max's slave!" I said with fake enthusiasm, Max and I don't really get on for reasons that are our own.

"He's not becoming my slave, I'm just teaching him some manners." Max said

"I don't need manners! I'm awesome enough all ready!" Iggy defended

"Yeah! See! You'd be spending your time more effectivley if you taught a fly manners!"

"Fang, are they always like that?" Thingy asked

"Well... Yeah." the Fanged traitor answered

"Well actually since you left we've changed a bit. Max has gotten unreasonably annoying, Blade's gotten even more full of herself, Iggy's gotten more sexist yet more manners, Gazzy feels sad a lot and Angel continuously reads my mind without mercy!" Nudge said

"That was short." I stated.

"Now children we really do need to talk about your education." said Madam Pomfery coming out of her office "I'll get Professor Dumbledore." she scurried away. I turned to the flock, wondering if we were actually going to do this.

"That look said 'are we really gonna do this'! As the so called 'leader' Max, it's your job to know the answer!" I said.

"Well.. Do you want to stay. I mean we could be protected here." She looked around the room trying to gauge our reactions.

"I want to stay." That must be the shortest sentance Nudge as ever said.

"I want to stay." Iggy said.

"Us to, even if we can't go to Hogwarts I'm sure the headmaster will help us find somewhere to stay." Angel said pointing to her and Gazzy.

"Is the Fanged traitor going to be here." Fang looked at thingy.

"Don't look at me brother, you're the boss remember."

"Yes, we'll stay, plus we'll be ok here."

"Then I don't want to stay here." I said glaring at Fang

"Please Blade! Pretty please!" Angel said

"No."

"Please I'll be your best friend!" Iggy said

"You're already my best friend!"

"Well put it this way, now you can shoot magical spells at him!" Thingy suggested

"If it apolgizes I'll think about it."

"Look guys, I'm sorry I felt you, but I can't be completely sorry because if I hadn't left I would never have met Wolfie." it said

"Apology unaccepted but I'll stay anyway." I said. Just then the doors opened and a man with a long white beard, half moon glasses and a crooked nose walked in. Madam Pomfery hurried beside him leading him toward us.

"I am Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. If you would like to stay I have already made arrangements for those of you unable to addend our school." His voice was firm but fair, he wasn't bossing us around. I liked him.

"Yay! Where are we staying? Are they nice?" asked Gazzy

"I have arranged for you to stay with a family called the Weasley's. They have seven kids and eight more will not be a bother to them. Infact Ginny Weasley is in Nudges year and Ron is in Wolfie and Blade's. Yes Gasman they are very nice indead." his blue eyes twinkled as he looked at all of us. "I believe that is Mrs. Weasley now." and as if he had planned it a woman with firey red hair entered the hospital wing, she had a kind demenor about her but it was also ferice, a don't mess with me type aura.

"I'm Molly Weasley, I'll be adopting you." she smiled "You don't have to take my second name, but my husband and I have to legally become your parents in order to take you in."

"Yeah, alright. What exactly do you want us to do?" asked Max, Dumbledore simled

"I understand none of your names are exactly normal so when you get enrolled you'll need one."

"Emm well Wolfie and I don't exactly have a last name. I was wondering if we could... If we could use Weasley?" asked Fang

"Yes of course dear!" Mrs. Weasley smiled happily

"Molly why don't you take Angel and The Gasman home, wouldn't want to spoil it for them when they come up do we?" Mrs. Weasley smiled. Gazzy and Angel said their goodbyes and were taken away. "Now shall we get the rest of you enrolled in the school, please follow me to my office." We followed Dumbledore to a big gargoyle (he told us about Hogwarts and how it had four houses and a load of other information) where Dumbledore said 'Chocolate Frogs' and the gargoyle moved aside and a set of stairs appeared. At the top of the stairs there was a door, we followed Dumbledore thrrough and the room inside was really cool. It was a large circular room with many windows and many portraits that were moving, there were a number of spindly tables with delicate looking silver thingys that whirred and emitted small puffs of smoke ontop of them, as well as an incredible collection of books and a strange looking bird with red feathers and a golden tail as long as a peacock's. His claws and beak were gleaming gold and his eyes were black. To say he looked awesome was an undersatment. His wings reminded me of my own wings. Standing next to the desk was a tall, rather severe-looking woman, with black hair drawn into a tight bun she wore emerald green robes and a pointed hat. "This is Professor McGonagall, she is head of Gryffindor house, head of trancefiguration department and deputy headmistress."

"Now I'd like your names please." McGonagall said, she spoke with a slight Scottish accent. "You first." she pointed to Max

"Max Ride." she said

"Max, is that short for Maxine?" McGonagall asked

"No, it's just Max."

"I'm Jeff Ride." Iggy said

"I'm Tiffany-Krystal Ride." said Nudge, we always seem to use the same names

"Zephyr Ride." Gazzy

"Angel Ride" Angel

"Nick Weasley." Fang the moron

"West Ride." Me

"Wolfie Weasley."

"Excuse me, can you tell me your name."

"Tell her a normal name." Fang muttered

"No, it's W." Wolfie said

"W"

"O"

"O"

"L"

"L"

"F"

"F"

"I"

"I"

"E"

"E, Wolfie?"

"Yes, that is my name can we get on with this sorting thing now?"

"Right, Max come over here please." Max walked over and McGonagall put a hat ontop of her head, the hat put her in Gryffindor along with Iggy, me and Wolfie (it had a slight panic attack when it was placed on me and Wolfie's heads and threatened to quit) Nudge was put in Hufflepuff and Fang was in Slytherin. Then Madame Pomfrey measured us for our uniforms.

"I'll have your uniforms ready in your dormitories and Mr and Mrs Weasley will take you to Diagon Ally for your books and wands tomorow, Professor McGonagall will collect you at breakfast, dinner is in a few minutes. I'll have your heads of houses show you to your common room." said Dumbledore, a while later Nudge had left with a dumpy woman with grey hair wearing a patched hat and shabby robes covered in dirt, Fang left with a thin man with sallow skin, a large, hooked nose, shoulder-length, greasy black hair and cold, black eyes wearing black, flowing robes making him look like an ugly overgrown bat. The rest of us followed professor McGonagall to a tower, we had to walk to the seventh floor in the east wing of the castle a painting of a fat lady (who coincidentally was called The Fat Lady), who was wearing a pink dress. McGonagall said 'Fortuna Mahor' and the portrait swung open

"This is Gryffindor common room, boys dormitory is up the stairs on your left, the girls is the same on your right." McGonagall said, we went up to our dorms and Wolfie and I went inside. There were two beds without things on them so by my excelent powers of deduction I decided that they must be ours. There was a trunk on each of the beds one marked 'W.W.' the other had 'W.R.'. I went over to the 'W.R.' one and opened it. Inside were clothes. A couple of plain white buttoned shirts, two red and gold ties, a few grey v-neck jumpers with a red and gold neckline, some grey trousers and some pleated skirts, two pairs of tights, a few pairs of grey socks and two black robes with the Gryffindor emblem on them.

"Well I think I'll stick with the trousers, way more practical." Wolfie said

"Yeah, maybe an eraser will attack, we'll need our trousers then." I agreed, we changed into our new uniforms and went down to the common room to find it was still empty. Max and Iggy were already there, both wearing trousers.

"Nudge'll be wearing a skirt won't she." was the first thing Max said

"Yep, any excuse to dress like a girly-girl." I said

"So where exactly do we go, do we wait here or wander around aimlessly?" Iggy asked

"I'd assume we wait here, someone is bound to come and get us for dinner." I said, a few minuets later a tall, thin boy with the vivid red hair and freckles wearing horn-rimmed glasses walked through the portrate hole.

"I'm Percy Weasley, head boy. Professor Dumbledore has informed me of your predicament and asked that I take you down to the great hall for dinner." he said, we followed him down to a giant set of doors, he pushed them open and we saw a massive room with tall walls that reach up to the ceiling, which was covered with candles and looked like the sky. At the front of the hall was a long table with a load of older people sitting at it (among them was Professor McGonagall, the overgrown bat and the now clean little woman) there were four other long tables with kids all sitting at them. They looked up when we came in, Fang was sitting at one table wearing a green and silver tie and Nudge was sitting at another with a skirt and a yellow and black tie. Pecry led us over to another table full of people wearing red and gold ties, we sat down as Dumbledore stood up.

"I have an anouncement to make, please be silent." he said, the hall went quiet "Now some of you may have noticed that there are a few new students who have arrived rather late. Slytherin has a new member in the form of Nick Weasley, Hufflepuff has gained a trusted ally in Tiffany-Krystal Ride and Gryffindor has four new friends named Max Ride, Jeff Ride, West Ride and Wolfie Weasley. I hope you will all try to make them comfortable and that those of you who know of how they came to be at this school will try not to stare and hold certain peoples differences aside. Furthermore I would like to stress that Jeff Ride's blindness is not a reason to treat him differently, they are all equals and I hope you shall treat them as such. That is all please enjoy the rest of your meal." Dumbledore sat back down

"I feel awkward." Wolfie said sliding further away from the rest of the Gryffindors

"Yeah..." Iggy said also sliding away. Max and I glanced at the Gryffindors who were also staring at us (or rather at Wolfie's back, they'd seen her and Fang's wings but because we're smart people we landed in the trees and then ran out to see what was going on) and moved down with them and began to eat the food. The food was **amazing, **I've never tasted anything like it (though it's not like there was anything to compete with, being on the run and all) it was sooo good.

"Weasley?" asked a tall, thin and gangly boy with freckles big hands, blue eyes, red hair and a long nose sitting down next to Max (who was next to Wolfie who was at the end of the table, Iggy across from her and me next to Iggy), a girl with bushy brown hair and brown eyes with large front teeth sat down next to him and a boy with messy raven hair, bright green eyes, glasses and a lightning bolt scar sat next to me. I reconized them from the student that saw us when we first got here, the class led by the giant man.

"What about the name?" I asked

"Well thats my second name, I'm Ron, Ronald Weasley."

"Harry Potter." said the boy next to me

"I'm Hermione Granger, you are?" the girl said looking around at us

"I'm Max Ride, that's my sister West, my brother Jeff and our... friend Wolfie." Max said "We're kinda homeless so Molly Weasley said she'd look after us."

"Oh, you don't look like syblings." Ron said, it wasn't that hard to notice that we didn't look alike. Iggy being six feet tall and skinny, really pale skin, longish reddish-blonde hair, and light blue eyes. Max having a slight tan, brown eyes and weird sort of long awkward hair (a mixture of blonde and brown) and me. My skin is a somewhere between Iggy and Max's, quite a bit smaller than both of them, bluey green eyes with hints of amber and shoulder length blonde hair and Nudge looks nothing like any of us at all, mocha skin, curly dark hair and big chocolate eyes (and she's about the same height as me) Gazzy and Angel both have big blue eyes and blonde hair.

"Our parents were missionaries." Max shrugged

"What are missionaries?" asked Ron, Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Missionaries are peo-" she started

"Deeply religious people, understand that?" sighed Iggy clearly not wanted to hear the speach that Hermione's tone told us was going to happen

"Oh, thats cool..." Ron said "So are any of you in our year?"

"What year are you in?" asked Iggy

"Third." Harry answer

"Wolfie and I are in your year but Jeff and Max are in the year above." I said

"What about that Nick dude and the Tiffany-Krystal girl?" asked Ron

"Nick's in Max's yea-" I started

"And my year! Just because I'm blind it doesn't mean you can leave the rest of my awesomeness out!" Iggy complained

"Yes, and Jeff's year, Tiffany's in the year below us." I finished sending Iggy a 'You're such and idiot' glare but of course it was a wasted look since he's blind

"West is giving you the 'you're such an idiot' glare by the way." Max said

"I'm not an idiot, how dare you accuse me of such a thing!" Iggy gasped putting one hand over his heart

"No, you're right. You're not just an idiot, you're a sexist idiot." I said (if you haven't seen the M & S advert then the joke is lost)

"Aw come on Westy! You love me really!" he said wrapping one arm around my shoulders

"Iggy one of the last things I want to do is hurt you but it's still on the list." I said

"Okay, I know when I'm unwanted." he said removing his arm and shuffling a bit further down the bench

"You got your books and stuff?" asked Harry

"No, we haven't even got our wands yet." I told him "Dumbledore said we'd get them tomorow."

"Has Dumbledore explained everything to you? About the school I mean."

"Mostly yeah but I wanna know what the teachers are like. That Hagrid guy, McGonagall and Dumbledore seem nice but what about the other ones?"

"Their all pretty nice. Our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, is brilliant, he's the best one we've had. The school's DADA teachers only seem to last a year at the most, first year we had Professor Quirill who tried to bring the most evil man in creation back to life-" Harry said pointing out a man with sandy hair, with a couple of grey streaks, and amber eyes, he was wearing raggidy robes and was covered in scars.

"I highly doubt he's eviler than certain ones we've met." muttered Iggy so quietly that I thought I was imagining it

"He died, second year we had Gilderoy Lockheart, who was a complete fraud and a coward who ended up stealing Ron's wand and tried to perform a memory charm on us which backfired and made him loose **his **memory and who knows who the school had before us. The Potions Master is the worst though, Professor Snape," he pointed to the overgrown bat "He's horrible, has favorites too and no matter how good you are at Potions unless you're a Slytherin he'll hate you. He also happens to be head of Slytherin house."

"Nick'll love him." Max muttered

"The head of Hufflepuff house and Herbology teacher is Professor sprout, she's really nice, usualy happy and dirty," He pointed to the little woman who took Nudge away "The head of Ravenclaw house and the charms teacher is Professor Flitwick," Harry went on about the teachers until the end of dinner and then proceded to tell me all about the school and this little village called Hogsmeade which he wasn't allowed to go to since his aunt and uncle wouldn't sign his permission slip (I made a mental note to ask Dumbledore if we could go). He told me and Wolfie about Voldemort (who really did sound like a very evil man) and his parents and about what happened the year before. Max and Iggy went on ahead of us talking with Hermione and Ron, Harry's conversation was really rather interesting, I mean you could make a book or a movie out of his life so far. After a while we all went to bed (with much reluctance from me and Wolfie) I stayed up for a while but I couldn't sleep, I don't much like sleeping I prefere to be awake and active and flying or running or doing something fast. I love moving fast, I like the speed. After about an hour I sussed that Wolfie was the only person (other than me) who was still awake.

"Hey, Wolfie?" I whispered

"Yeah?" came her not-very-tired reply

"How come you didn't talk around Harry, Ron and Hermione?" I asked, all through Harry, Ron and Hermione's conversation Wolfie hadn't said a word, I mean I hadn't said much either after Harry had gotten into detail about things but Wolfie hadn't said anything at all.

"I don't like talking infront of crowds or people I don't know," she answered "Unless I'm freaked out or I don't like them."

"I'm sure they'll be happy to know you won't talk to them because you don't not like them." I said, I doubted that was the only reason (if it even was a real reason) but didn't press, we hardley knew wach other after all

"You gonna make an attemt at sleeping tonight?"

"Nah, I still feel like an eraser or something will burst through the door at any minute. Never liked sleeping much anyway."

"Oh I love sleeping. But only in the morning. It's a Wolfie thing." we laughed a little and talked quietly for a bit more but I guess we both went to sleep eventually because I woke up to find Hermione was the only one already awake. She was in the bathroom desperatly trying to get her hair to stay in a ponytail. It wasn't working. Why there wasn't a spell she could use for it was anyones guess but hey, it's not my problem. I went over to my duffle bag and searched through the contents in a desperate attepmt to find a something that wasn't ripped or covered in blood. I found my spare converse at the bottom of my bag, a plain blue t-shirt and a black hoodie. That was part of my normal outfit, shoes t-shirt and hoodie. Unfortunatly I didn't have any trousers that I could wear in public without everyone thinking I'd just been mauled or had been rotting six feet under for the past five years all I had was a skirt Nudge couldn't fit in her bag so I settled for that.

Once I was dressed I went down to the common room and waited for like an hour before Max and Iggy showed up, out of the Flock I'd always been the last to sleep and the first up so it came as no surprise. What I was annoyed about though was the fact that Max had a pair of trousers left, granted they were jogging bottoms (oh how Nudge will disapprove) but they were still trousers.

"If you laugh I'll kill you." I said glaring at Max

"Why would Max laugh?" Iggy asked

"She's wearing the skirt Nudge couldn't fit in her bag and shoved in Blade's." Max laughed

"Oh man I wish I could see! Angel sent me mental images of all of you so I'd have a face to put to the voice and I've always thought you'd look good in a skirt!" Iggy laughed

"I'll kill you too!" I snapped

"Man if I could see I'd have a damn good veiw to end my life on!" I grabbed a nearby book and chucked it at his head "OW! Such violence! That was so... so... OW!" another hour later McGonagall showed up.

"Are we all ready to go?" she asked

"Wolfie's not up yet." I said

"Well go and wake her Miss Ride!" I walked up to the dorm and told Wolfie to wake up, she ignored me. Lets see if the Nudge tacktick.

Step one: Ask nicely, just done

Step two: Bit louder

"Wolfie, wake up!"

Step three: Even louder

"WOLFIE! GET UP!"

"Five more minutes..."

Step four: Shake and shout

"WOLFIE! GET! UP! NOW!" I shook her shoulders

"I-don't-wanna-" she mumbled into her pillow

Step five: Last resort

I shoved her off the bed

"AARRRRRAHHH!" she screamed before a loud thud changed it to an "OOOOOOWWWWWW!"

"Wake up lazybones, we're getting our wands today!"

"I'm up, I'm up! Sheesh! Was the violence necessary?" she groaned pushing herself off the floor, I rolled my eyes and went back down to the common room. After another ten minutes Wolfie finaly made her grand entrance. We went up to Dumbledore's office (Where we were met by Fang and Nudge) and McGonagall told us we were going through the fire place (which was met with 'We're pulling a Santa Clause?' from Iggy) and then threw the powder stuff in the fire, shouted 'Diagon Ally' and reapeared infront of Mrs. Weasley and a man with bright red hair (though it was balding) he wore glasses and had blue eyes, I assume this was Mr Weasley.

"Right, off we go dears!" Mrs. Weasley said happily, we followed her in and out of shops getting books and things (including a mad bity book which almost took Iggy's finger off when he touched Max's, because he's blind he didn't get any books of his own) we avoided the pet shop since none of us really had time to look after a pet (Total was more than enough, thank god Akila's owner took pity on us and 'adopted' him) and finaly we were at the wand shop.

"Ah, so whose first?" asked the owner, Max stepped forward "Hhhmm, perhaps... this one?" he pulled out a long box from the rows and rows of them, opened it and handed to wand to Max, she waved it and a vase smashed "Okay, not that one, ah this one!" he handed her another which glowed in her hand "Maple, dragon heartstring, 11 inches, reasonably flexable."

"Me next!" Nudge said exitedly. She got Rosewood, veela hair, 12 1/2 inches, surprisingly swishy. Fang got blackthorn, unicorn tail-hair, 15 inches, hard. Iggy got walnut, phoenix feather, 14 inches, solid. Finaly my turn came.

"West Ride." he mused "I know the exact wand for you, only one other customer of mine has ever been able to use a wand with this particular core and if I am correct the wood is from the same tree also. The creature it was taken from can only be seen by those who have witnessed death first hand and the boy I gave it to had seen far too much death for an eleven year old. I can only imagin how messed up he is on the inside now..." he handed me a wand which glowed the second I touched it, a light breeze flew around the room "Yes I thought so, 10 inches, quite flexable, vine... Thestral tail-hair." I stared at the wand for a minute as Wolfie stepped forward.

"Just me left Mr. O." she said quietly

"Ah, difficult difficult... perhaps.." he handed her one which proceded to blow up a chair as it touched her finger tips "No no definatly not, how about this one?" bye bye ladders "No? Well try this one," she waved it

"Arrah! Did you just try to blow my head up?" Iggy exclaimed

"Didn't think so... this one?" another seven wands later "Ah, that must be the wand! I know it's around here somewhere, I believe a certain shall we say... famous woman has a wand core from the same pheonix but no ones ever used this particular wand before! I've never let anyone try it before, the oldest wand in the shop give it a go!" This time it glowed "Yes I thought so, phoenix feather, pine, supple, 9 2/3 inches." We thanked Mr Ollivander and went back to Hogwarts.

"I can't wait until next year, we'll only have to do the subjects we want and we won't have to do over time, this year our timetable is so messed up!" Wolfie said looking at hers, our timetables had all the third year (Or in Iggy, Max and Fang's case fourth and Nudge's second) classes on it (some classes are on at the same time as each other, like divanation and ancient ruins, so we go to divination one week and ancient ruins the next) and then our extra sessions where we learn the basics, which we have to do in our spare time. Thankfully this arangement means we don't get any homework (Not including studying) this year.

"Tell me about it, McGonagall said we have our first class after lunch right?" Max asked

"Yeah, lunch is just now and we have Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lupin." I said

"We have History of Magic." Sighed Max

"Aarr, Ron said that was the most boring class ever!" sighed Iggy

"You can sleep in that class!" Wolfie sugested

"I can sleep in any class!"

"I'm gonna pay attention, magic is really interesting and I wanna know as much about it as I can plus the more I pay attention in class the less studying I have to do outside of class." I said

"You're such a geek, Blade!" Max laughed as we walked to lunch

"So you all got your wands now then?" Harry grinned as we sat down

"Yeah, I can't beleive unicorns are actualy real!" Max said as we waved Nudge off to the Hufflepuff table, Wolfie got up and left for the Slytherin table to talk to fang.

"Yeah, I couldn't beleive it either when I first came to Hogwarts. During my first year here I found a dead one in the Forbidden Forest, Voldemort was drinking it's blood." Harry said

"Lovely, whats a veela? Nudge got veela hair in her wand." Max asked

"Veela's are a race of semi-human, semi-magical beings similarto the Sirens of Greek mythology." Hermione said

"What about phoenix's? I've got that." Iggy asked

"That's what Harry and You-know-who have, their feathers came from the same phoenix!" Ron said

"You know that bird in Dumbledore's office?" asked Harry, we all nodded "Thats a phoenix, their tears have healing powers and when it's time for them to die they burst into flames and are reborn from the ashes, the one in Dumbledore's office is called Fawkes. He saved my life last year in the chamber." While Harry had gone into great detail about the school, Voldemort and the wizarding world he had been vague about what happened to him in the past two years. He had, however, gone into emence detail about what had happened so far in the year, he told us all about Sirius and Alohamora Black and how they had escaped from the wizard prizon, Azkaban and how just last week they were spotted in a town not far from Hogwarts.

"What about the rest of your wands?" asked Ron

"I've got dragon-heartstring, F-Nick got the unicorn hair, Wolfie got phoenix feather and what did you get again West?" Max turned to look at me

"Em, Thestral tail-hair." I said

"Thats really rare, not many people have Thestral tail-hair cores. Some people beleive that you can only use those type of wands if you've witnessed death first hand, like the Thestrals themsleves and since most people get their wands when their eleven and not many people have witnessed death first hand at eleven not many people could use them." Hermione gushed

"Have you witnessed death first hand?" asked Ron

"Our parents, they died that's why we're moving in with you." I answered as grimly as I could

"What have you got next?" Harry asked

"Defence Against the Dark Arts." I answered standing up with the rest of our little group

"Yeah me, Ron and Hermione have that too. It's the only class we have this afternoon, I'll show you where it is shall I?"

"Alright, Wolfie we're leaving finish up!" I said, Wolfie finished her lunch and ran over to us as we left the hall.

"If it's the only class you have this afternoon why does Hermione need such a big bag?" Wolfie muttered, I shrugged in reply.

Professor Lupin wasn't there when we arrived at our first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. I sat down, took out my books, my quill thingy and 'parchment' (why they can't use a pen and paper is beyond me) after a while he walked in the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his old briefcase on the teacher's desk.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands." well this should be interesting "Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, we all got to our feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led us along the corridor and around a corner, where the first thing we saw was the ghost Harry had told me about, Peeves, floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum. Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin —"

Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; he was still smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

Filch... Harry had told us about him too, he was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and Peeves. Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry. Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely." He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "_Waddiwasi_!" and pointed it at Peeves. With the force of a bullet, the peice of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

"Awesome!" said a boy shouted in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean, an old friend taught me that one." said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?" We continued walking down a second corridor and stopped next to a big door

"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

It was a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs was was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." He got to his feet and strode past the class, at the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear." a short, round-faced boy (who I assume is Neville) went scarlet. Harry glared at Snape, Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably." Neville's face went even redder. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap. "Now, then," Professor Lupin continued, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there." Most people seemed to feel that this _was_something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively. I don't know what a boggart is but it seems to be something people are scared of.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. _This _one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what _is_a Boggart?" Great, that is exactly what I wanted to know. Hermione put up her hand.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's small sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

"Er — because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is _laughter_. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please… _riddikulus_!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville." The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows.

"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?" Neville started to speak but no sound came out.

"I didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully. Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape." Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

"Professor Snape… hmmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er... yes," said Neville nervously. "But I don't want the Boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Neville looked startled, but said, "Well… always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress… green, normally… and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.

"A big red one," said Neville.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Neville uncertainty, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "And you will raise your wand and cry 'Riddikulus' and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…" I thought for a minute, I really have no idea what scares me the most. It could be the whitecoats, the school, an operation table... I don't know...

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin. no, I have no idea what my biggest fear is let alone what I could think of for the spell "Neville, we're going to back away. Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward… Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot." we all walked back, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One — two — three —_now_!" A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and bat-like, Professor Snape stepped out. Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R — r — riddikulus! " squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag. There was a roar of laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!" A girl with long black hair stepped forward, Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising...

"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati. A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" roared Professor Lupin. A boy darted past her

_Crack_! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floorlength black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face, a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek

"Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus. The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

_Crack_! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then —_crack_!- became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before —_crack_! — becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" shouted Lupin. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward.

_Crack_! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

_Crack_!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly.

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry's feet. He raised his wand, ready.

"Here!" shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward. _Crack_!

The legless spider had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, "Riddikulus!" almost lazily.

_Crack_!

"Forward, Wolfie, and finish him off!" said Lupin Wolfie stepped towards it and there was a _Crack_ then the boggart was a tall balding man wearing a white lab coat, he had an evil sneer on his face and a scalpule in his right hand

"Riddikulus!" Wolfie cried, the man;s body shrunk to about the size of a doll and his head grew to the size of the wardrobe.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Wolfie. Well done, everyone… Let me see… five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart… and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," said Harry.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Lupin said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarize it for me… to be handed in on Monday. That will be all." Talking excitedly, the class left the room.

"Did you see me take that banshee?" shouted the Seamus guy.

"And the hand!" said Dean, waving his own around.

"And Snape in that hat!"

"And my mummy!"

"I wonder why Professor Lupin's frightened of crystal balls?" said Lavender thoughtfully.

"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron excitedly as we made our way back to the classroom to get our bags.

"He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart —"

"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"

"I'm glad I didn't get a shot," I said "I have absolutly no idea what my greatest fear is."

"Really? Then maybe having a shot would have been good, you'd know what your fear was then," Harry said

"Yeah... Maybe..."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE: Déjà vu much

WPOV

I was rudely awoken By Blade shoving me out my nice warm bed. I hated facing that boggart yesterday; I'd had nightmares about him. I shivered partly to do with the sudden warmth being stolen from me and partly to do with fear. I propped myself up on my elbows,

"What is it?" I asked Blade sleepily, she rolled her eyes.

"Morning sunshine, we have class and frankly I thought you'd want breakfast. I'll meet you down there." She took Hermione by the arm and walked out, sighing I got ready. Walking down the stairs and fixing my robes I saw Iggy siting in one of the arm chairs.

"Hey Ig, how come you're not a breakfast?" I sat across from him,

"I woke up and no one was there, people seem to forget I'm blind and can't find my way around." I bit my lip, I was going to try out an idea I had but I couldn't tell him. If it didn't work then he would be crushed, if it did, his life would change.

"Ig I know this is a lot to ask, considering that we haven't know each other long…"

"Oh what you going to ask me, want to snog I'm more than happy to help."

"Ig no, look, please, just answer me seriously ok."

"Ok"

"Do you trust me?" he smiled slightly.

"Yes Wolfie, I mean you saved Angel twice." I smiled,

"Look I'm going to try something, I can't tell you what, you just have to trust me."

"Ok, go on." I took his hand, I needed some connection, I wasn't great at it yet. I raised my hand and placed it over his eyes. I felt the warm, loving energy course through me as a golden glow emitted from my hand. I stopped and looked at Ig.

"Ig you can open your eyes." I giggled slightly at his shocked expression. He opened his crystal blue eyes and stared into mine. He let out a gasp of surprise,

"I can see your eyes, I can….I can see!" I smiled

"It worked it really did, I mean I'm not great at healing yet, I've only done a few cuts and…." But I never got to finish that sentence as Iggy had claimed me into a bone crushing hug.

"I can see! You gave me the most wonderful, most amazing gift in the history of gifts!" he ran from the portrait hole, down the many stairs and burst through the doors of the great hall. People watched open mouthed as he dragged me to the Gryffindor table. Blade looked up,

"What's up Ig?"

"Oh nothing is up Blade, Blade who has blond hair. You are giving me that look that clearly says 'what the hell is up with you' as I watch Wolfie struggling in my death hug on her."

"How?" Everyone was staring open mouthed at Ig and me.

"This wonderful person right here in my arms."

"Jeff you may want to realize Wolfie she's turning blue." Harry said Ig sat me down.

"Please call me Iggy or Ig, Jeff is way too formal." I was trying to regain my normal breathing pattern, I heard Harry chuckle.

"I'd eat up if I were you Wolfie, we have potions next." I sat down and tilted my head slightly "that's Snape's class." I rolled my eyes; honestly no one could be as bad as the whitecoats. Once we had eaten Blade, Ron, Harry, Hermione and me made our way to potions. Once we entered I saw the over grown bat that was head of Fang's house.

"Ah yes you two need a place to sit." His voice was cold and hard I subconsciously took a step back, Snape sneered. "Potter move next to Miss Patil." Harry moved from his place next to Hermione, "Miss Weasley sit next to Miss Granger." I moved along without looking back at him, I sat next to Hermione and smiled at her. "Miss Ride, please sit next to Mr Malfoy." I turned and saw one of the boys two rows behind me move. Blade sat next to the blonde one. I turned to Hermione who was glaring at who I assume Malfoy to be.

"Why are you giving that boy the evil eye?" Hermione turned to face me.

"That's Draco Malfoy." She whispered back "He is the most vile Slytherin, he is a Slytherin as they come."

"What is that supposed to mean, my big brother is a Slytherin?"

"I know but Nick is an exception." She stopped talking as Snape came to the front of the class.

"Turn you textbooks to page eighty and copy out the instructions for the potion you are going to brew tomorrow." Oh no, oh no, oh no! I can't read or…or write. What am I going to do, it isn't something you advertise. I turned to Hermione who was digging into her bag; I could tell her, she…she wouldn't make fun of me, would she?

"Hermione." I whispered to her, she turned and looked at me, "I can't read."

"Oh, I'll read it out to you and you…"

"I can't write." I knew I was blushing, Hermione bit her lip.

"Does Dumbledore know?"

"No, you're the only one, help." Hermione was about to answer when a bat like being swooped toward us.

"Miss Weasley." I looked up "I believe I asked you to do a task five minutes ago and you have yet to take out your books." I looked at Hermione; she looked at me and nodded.

"We may have a problem Professor." I looked at her, making motions for her to stop.

"And why is that Miss Granger." I continued to shake my head; I was beginning to feel like a bauble head. "Or is the problem that Miss Weasley feels free to slack of during class because of her circumstances." I looked wide eyed at him.

"What! No!" why would he think that, I would be more than happy to do his stupid little task if I could.

"Well then tell me Miss Weasley why you can't do something as simple as read a few instructions and write them down."

"Because… because I….. I can't." I whispered the last big looking down at my hands. Snape growled,

"The insolence." He took my arm and swept out the room.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he dragged me down the many corridors,

"To Professor McGonagall." I couldn't say anymore as he opened her doors, she was luckily not in the middle of a class.

"Severus, what are you doing here?"

"It appears that Miss Weasley is incapable of performing the most simple academic tasks." He looked at me with utter disgust written on his feathers,

"Weasley is this true?"

"Professor, it's just, I mean. Can I talk to you alone?"

"Yes, you can go Severus." Snape swept from the room.

"Ok before you shout at me I know I was an idiot not to tell anyone, but I was embarrassed." She sighed at put her quill down. "It is just you know what happened to us, we never got taught stuff like that, if is actually a miracle that we can think or speak at all."

"Do you mean to tell me that you can't read or write?" I bit my lip,

"Yes."

"Well it turns out that your friend Jeff Ride is in the same situation you are." She shifted through some papers "And Miss Granger is tutoring him, I am sure she would be happy to help you also." I looked up.

"Really, Hermione can teach me?"

"Yes." I squealed and lunged myself at her.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she patted my back awkwardly, I pulled back.

"You better get to class Weasley." Her voice had amusement in it as I ran out the room.

-o-O-o-

I never thought I'd say this in a magic school but I am bored out my brain. Divination is the most boring subject ever and that's saying something when A History Of Magic is in the running for that award. I was staring off into space as Hermione read the meaning of the symbols I thought I saw in the tea cup.

"Wolfie are you even listening to me?" her voice showing her annoyance,

"What?" I heard Blade chuckle,

"There is your answer Hermione." I glared at her and she just shook her head and continued to make up her tea cup predictions.

"Sorry Hermione, just thinking." She rolled her eyes at me.

"Honestly you'd think you'd listen to me since I'm helping you."

"Oh come on even you have to admit that this class is a dull as dish water." Hermione smiled at was about to answer when the world started to blur. Everyone started to mould into one, I shook my head and closed my eyes tight. When I opened them again I was still in the Divination class room only Hermione wasn't sitting next to me anymore. Instead a boy was. He looked about a year older than I was. He has messy blonde hair that stuck up at odd angles and his blue eyes were glaring at a girl across from him. She smiled her golden eyes had the glint of mischief in them that only a true prankster could pull off, she put her red hair behind her ear.

"Oh cheer up Tommy I was only joking with you." the boy (now named Tommy) sighed.

"Claw you can be a pain in the butt and for your information I am cheerful."

"No a dead animal looks more cheerful than you do." Where was I?

"Hermione? Blade? Harry? Ron?" I looked around wildly; I wasn't in Professor Trelawney's class room. The sicking smell of roses was gone and her hot fire wasn't burning. I put my hand to Tommy's face and waved it, no anvil. Sighing I stood up and walked around the table.

"Padfoot mate quite throwing that at me it is starting to bug me" Tommy stated taking the paper ball off the guy with long black hair. I recognized them from somewhere, but I couldn't place them. I looked at the papers one boy who looked a lot like Harry did had J.P 3 L.E on his paper.

"Harry?" I needed someone to answer me. Padfoot chuckled

"Tommy mate you really do need to chill."

"I am chilled, what is it with my friends questioning my emotions."

"Maybe because we are shocked you have any." I recognised that voice, it was Professor Lupin. I gaped at him as he acted so care free. He also looked less aged, his scars a bit newer. How could I travel back in time? I looked around not really listening to their conversation, I saw a boy that looked like Neville he was eyeing a pretty girl in the corner. Had I entered an alternate universe?

"Tommy we are all best buds aren't we Prongs?" seriously what was it with the names? They guy who had been doodling looked up from him page.

"What? Oh yeah."

"Prongs you're drooling." Claw said, Prongs glared at her and went back to doodling. I walked away from the table trying to figure out where I was, as soon as I walked away the world started to blur again and I was back in Divination. Only I was still standing and Harry was next to me shaking me slightly.

"Harry what happened?"

"You blacked out, kept repeating things like Padfoot, Prongs and Claw."

"You also mentioned someone called Tommy." Blade said. Professor T came over to Harry and I, her face twisted in fury.

"The Insolence!" she grabbed me by my arm, just like Snape had done.

"Where are we going?" Déjà vu much,

"We are going to Professor McGonagall." And with that Trelawney burst through her doors, I wasn't so lucky this time. She was teaching Nudge's year and I saw Nudge in the class; she looked up at me in shock.

"Weasley this has to be a record." I bit my lip "Sybil, please explain why you have interrupted my class."

"Miss Weasley feels free to disrespect my art by making a mockery out of seers." My eyes widened,

"That's not true; I did nothing of the sort!"

"Liar!" she screeched, "You pretended to have a fake vision during my class on tea leafs."

"Weasley is that true?"

"No, I mean I don't know what happened. One minute Hermione is telling me the symbols on tea leafs and then I'm in a completely different place well I mean I was still in Hogwarts but I was sitting next to this boy called Tommy and he kept talking to these people and a younger Professor Lupin was there and then…" she cut off my rant that would give Nudge a run for her money.

"Miss Weasley I am asking you to tell me in sentences, why you have been brought to me."

"I don't know Professor, I wasn't pulling a prank." McGonagall sighed and looked at me,

"You are certainly getting yourself into a lot of trouble Weasley, you may go." I sighed and left an open mouthed second year class.

-o-O-o-

Hermione, Iggy and I were in Iggy's dorm, Hermione was starting our tutoring. Iggy was so happy to have his sight back that he was grinning at me like an idiot.

"Ig you're starting to freak me out, quit grinning like that." He shook his head.

"Sorry Wolfie, I'm just so happy. You would be to that is for the majority for your childhood you were blind and now you can see again. It is amazing,"

"Will you two pay attention, Wolfie is lucky not to be in detention with that prank she pulled in Divination." Hermione's voice was annoyed

"I told you it wasn't a prank."

"Ok come on seeing the future and past isn't real." Iggy was looking between us, his face looked scared to say something.

"Well clearly it is, I just saw the past Hermione."

"Let's get back to learning." Iggy said quickly stopping Hermione from retaliating. He picked up his quill and looked at Hermione expectantly; I sighed and followed in suit.

Thank you fast learning brain! Well Iggy and I can now write our names and each other's names. So we are making progress. I skipped down the stairs two at a time and walked over to Blade who was watching Ron and Harry play wizard's chest.

"Knight to e7." Ron said, R.I.P Harry's queen, I sat next to Blade who was just shaking her head at them.

"You had a productive day, at least you could tell us were Transfiguration was." I glared at her and she just smirked at me. I rolled my eyes and looked toward Harry and Ron,

"What happened in Divination anyway?" Ron asked.

"I told you, I had a premonition thing and I saw the past." After telling someone this for one hundred times your patients fly's out the window. I sat on the floor and told Harry to move his side castle to c4. He did and Ron frowned,

"I thought you couldn't read."

"That's why I pointed." I said smiling at him, he glared at me as Max and Iggy came over. Max didn't look happy at all.

"What did you do?" I asked Blade,

"I take offence to that, why would it be me that has done something wrong?!"

"Because Max doesn't exactly like me and considering Iggy is in one piece you are the only person left."

"Well, I don't remember doing anything. Well except I may have told Snape that using Shampoo isn't a crime, in fact it is a normal thing to do." Blade had a thoughtful look on her face.

"Yeah and Gryffindor lost twenty points because of it." Muttered Harry, I giggled as Max crossed her arms and looked down at me.

"Ha! I told you it wasn't me!" three guesses who that was.

"What did you do to give Iggy back his eye sight?"

"I healed his eyes, I'm a healer."

"Well take it back there will be consequences."

"Max!" Iggy and Blade shouted at the same time.

"I don't trust her, for all we know she's working for the school to spy on us. She changes into a wolf, just like an Eraser." I was glad no one was in the common room at this point. "She's freaking, abnormal even for our standards and you have to stay away from her. I'm telling Nudge tomorrow." I felt like a tone of molten lava had been poured onto of me.

"I can't take it back, once I've healed him I've healed him." I ran past her up stairs and jumped onto my bed, burying my face into the nice soft pillow.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4:

"What did you do that for?" I yelled at Max

"I don't trust her!" she yelled back

"What's not to trust, she gave Iggy his **sight** back! I know Nick is an annoying git but he would never go around with someone he didn't trust and he would never **ever** go around with someone who helped the School or anything like that!"

"Oh so despite the fact that Nick up and left without a word, betrayed us all you **still** trust his judgment over mine?"

"I've always trusted Nick more than you! I have about as much trust in you as I do in an Eraser!"

"Ok let's all just **calm down**!" Iggy shouted making a calming motion

"Calm down! Calm down! Max just told Wolfie to re-blind you and you're telling us to **calm down**!"

"Yeah, let's not fight. I may not agree with Max I just don't wanna have the argument _here_!" Iggy continued with his gesture

"What do you mean you don't agree with me? How can you **trust **her!" Max yelled

"What did I say about fighting!"

"Answer the damn question!"

"Obviously he trusts her! She gave him the one thing he's always wanted **and** saved Angel. Twice!" I told her angrily

"She could be trying to lure us into a false sense of security!" Max said

"She's friends with **F-**Nick." I yelled

"F-Nick?" Ron questioned, I ignored him

"Yes and we both know how trustworthy he is!"

"He's more trustworthy than you!"

"Says the girl who spent the past year ranting about how **un**trustworthy he is!"

"I was **angry!** He up and left without a word! All he left was a note!"

"**I** didn't rant and rave and he was **my boyfriend **at the time!"

"Some girlfriend you must have been!" I yelled

"What's going on?" Hermione asked entering the common room

"Sshhh! Don't start them off again! They're like deer! Don't frighten them!" Harry exclaimed

"Well it's too late for that now!" I yelled

"Where's Wolfie?"

"Upstairs! Now leave! Just go! I need to defuse the tension!" Iggy exploded pointing to the direction Wolfie had run off in, I took a step towards Max glaring at her

"You'd better apologize. What you said was uncalled for and without proof." Then I turned on my heel and went to see if Wolfie was okay.

I walked into our dorm to find Wolfie with her head buried in her pillow.

"Wolfie?" I said tentatively, Wolfie jumped and grabbed her wand, she lowered it when she saw it was me. There were tear tracks running down her face. I'm gonna kill Max.

"It's only you, I thought you were an Eraser or something..." she trailed off

"What were you gonna do if it was?" I sat down next to her

"Make up some random mumble jumbo or shout re-"

"Not while you're holding your wand!" I snatched it off her.

"Is Max mad at me?"

"No, she just doesn't trust you. Or Fang. Or me."

"Does Iggy believe her? About me plotting to kill you in your sleep."

"No, he said he disagrees with Max."

"I only wanted to help Iggy, I thought if I healed his eyes he'd be happy, I thought the whole of your flock would be happy."

"Oh Iggy's happy alright, Max is just... Improbable." Wolfie sighed as shr fell onto her bed, she looked up and the ceiling biting her lip.

"Do you think she'll ever trust me?"

"Max? No, the only person she actually trusts is herself. I have about as much trust in her as I do in an Eraser though so her trust levels are pretty low herself."

"So you're saying that the rest of your flock will trust me but Max never will."

"Pretty much, Angel already sees you as one of us and if she does Gazzy will and Iggy does now, I do and if the rest of us do Nudge will Max just doesn't trust people."

"I feel so stupid for reacting that way, I should have just told Max to shove her big head into the fire and be done with it."

"If you had I hope she would have followed your orders, Max bothers me." a while later Hermione came up to find us laughing our heads off.

"I thought she was upset..." Hermione said staring at us

"I was but the mental picture of Max shoving her head in the fire really cheered me up." the three of us sat and laughed about a load of stuff until we went to bed. unfortunately Wolfie thought it would be a good idea to wake me up with her thrashing around.  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked as Hermione sat up and Wolfie stopped thrashing and sat up out of breath.

"Claw, blood, lighting..." she gasped, Hermione and I looked at each other and went over to her bed.

"Tell us what happened." Hermione said kindly

"Well remember what happened in Divination?" we both nodded "Well, I was just sitting there when everything changed. I was sitting next to a boy with blonde hair and blue eyes called Tommy and he was having this conversation with a younger Professor Lupin, a girl with red hair and gold eyes called Claw, a boy who looked like Harry called Prongs and a black haired boy called Padfoot." Hermione looked like she wanted to interrupt her and tell her she can't see the past but held her tounge "Tonight I had this dream, it was kind of blurry but there was lightning flashing and then that girl from before, Claw, fell to the ground and hit her head and there was a lot of blood and that Tommy guy was there and young Professor Lupin and a girl with Harry's eyes and red hair, they never said her name."

"You must be imagining it." Hermione said

"No, Wolfie can change into a wolf, she can heal people and she has wings, whats so hard to believe that maybe she can see the past?" I said

"Yes but-"

"Hermione, there is a certain power known as Premonitions which allows the person who has this gift to see the future and the past. They see it as though they are there but no one can see or hear them, it allows them to see things that have happened or will happen and is normally triggered by touching an item or stepping in a room." I explained

"So you think I can see the future and the past? I get how the Divination one could be created because they were in Divination at the time too but in my dream they were out side."

"Sometimes if the person with the gift is asleep they can tap into the memories of someone who spent a lot of time in that particular spot, your bed could have been that Claw person's bed when she was at school."

"Wow, that's... I can see the past and the future..."

"You two are insane **no one **can see the future or the past unless it's in a pensieve!" Hermione said

"Maybe we should talk to Dumbledore, or we could just ask Professor Lupin about the memories since he was in both of them." I sugested

"I don't want to talk to Lupin just yet" Wolfie said "I want to find out more about this new power, Hermione stop looking at me like that!"

"Does that mean you're going to talk to him eventually?" I questioned ignoring Hermione

"I don't know, I don't want him to know I can see these things. Not after the way Porf.T acted."

"Well what are we going to do about these 'premonitions' of yours?" asked Hermione

"I can't control them Hermione! We can't do anything. These people. Claw, Lupin, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Tommy have to be something to do with Hogwarts, I've seen Claw and Padfoot somewhere before I just can't think of where."

"Can you draw well?" I asked "Or do you know anyone who can?"

"I don't know, I've never drawn before." she said "And if I could it'd take ages to get them to look right and the person who was drawing for me would never get them to look right."

"Well if you could draw them realistically then maybe we could find out who they are."

"There are people in the muggle world who work for a living to draw what people describe." Hermione suggested

"I know but they'd never get them to look exact, they'd have to look exact to place them."

Wolfie sighed placing her head in her hands "I have a headache."

"Well gold eyes aren't exactly common, maybe we could find this Claw person."

"Yeah, all I want to do is sleep right now though."

"Go to sleep then, if you have any more of these visions tell us, ok?"

"Ok, night." Wolfie curled back under her covers and fell asleep

"Do you really think she can see the past and the future?" Hermione asked as she climbed into her bed (which was conveniently placed next to mine)

"Yeah, I do. It's not hard considering what she can do already."

"I suppose you're right but I've always thought it was a load of rubbish, Seers and the like."

"Let me guess, your only experience with that sort of thing is with Professor Trelawney?"

"Yeah, maybe that's why, she's not exactly sane."

"Considering my life so far, premonitions aren't exactly surprising."

"How do you know about them anyway?"

"I like to read." I shrugged despite knowing she couldn't see me

"At least we have something in common..."

Christmas was getting closer and Mrs. Weasley had sent us all a letter saying we could come to her house for the holidays, Max and Nudge wanted to see Angel and Iggy wanted to see Gazzy. Fang had also decided he wanted to see his new home but Wolfie and I had opted to stay at the school, Wolfie not wanting to spend too much time with Max and me wanting to avoid her so as to not kill her. There was also a Hogsmeade weekend and Mrs. Weasley has signed all of our slips to let us go, Harry still couldn't go because his slip had remained unsigned whilst Wolfie had both of us banned from Hogsmeade (We still haven't been yet) for seven trips because of her little prank. Currently the three of us were heading up to the Gryffindor common room when we heard

"Pssst- Kiddies!" We turned to see Fred and George's heads sticking out from behind the statue of the one eyed witch

"What are you doing?" Harry asked "Why aren't you going to Hogsmeade?"

"We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," said Fred, with a mysterious wink "Come here!" we wandered into the empty classroom they'd pointed to and George closed the door as quietly as he could.

"We've got you an early christmas present!" they beamed

"For who?" asked Wolfie

"Well we figured you three could share it..." Fred said pulling out a large, square, very worn piece of parchment

"What's this rubbish?" I asked

"What's this rubbish she says-"

"This, West, is the secret to our success!"

"It's a wrench giving it to you," Fred said "But we decided your need's are greater than ours."

"Anyway, we know it by heart. We bequeath it to you. We don't really need it anymore."

"And what, prey tell, do we need a bit of old parchment for?" asked Wolfie

"A bit of old parchment?" Fred exclaimed as though Wolfie had mortally offended him "Explain George."

"Well... When we were in our first year, young, carefree and innocent" I snorted, Fred and George have never been innocent, that is the opposite of what they are. "Okay, more innocent than we are now, we got into a spot of bother with Filch-" Yeah, that sounds more believable

"We let off a dungnomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason" Fred continued

"I imagine that reason would be he has to clean it up." Wolfie said

"Anyway, he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual-"

"Detention-"

"Disemnowelment-"

"And we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of filing cabinets marked _**Confiscated and Highly Dangerous**_."

"Don't tell me," Harry grinned

"Well what would you have done?" asked George "I caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, Fred whipped the drawer open and grabbed this."

"It's not as bad as it sounds you know," said Fred "We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was though or he wouldn't have confiscated it."

"And you know how to work it?" Harry questioned

"Oh yes, this little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school."

"That may have something to do with your lack of listening skills" I muttered, they glared

"Look, just watch, if you will George?" George took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, "_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_." at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly words, that proclaimed:

_Messrs. Moony, Claw, Padfoot, Hot Shot and Prongs _

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present _

_THE MARAUDER'S MAP _

_With special thanks to Wormtail and Fox_

"WHAT!" Wolfie snatched the parchment off them and stared at the writing

"Do you think they're the same ones from Divination?" I asked

"Probably, but that gives us more questions than it answers, who are Hot Shot, Fox, Mooney and Wormtail?" Harry, Fred and George were looking at us like we were mental

"Ignore us," Wolfie said and we went back to staring intently at the parchment but Fred, George and Harry stole glances at us ever so often.

It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable thing was the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labeled with a name in minuscule writing. A labeled dot in the top left corner showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study, Mrs. Norris, was prowling the second floor and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room.

"All those passages-" Wolfie started

"Right into Hogsmeade," said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger. "There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four" — he pointed them out — "but we're sure we're the only ones who know about _these_. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in — completely blocked. And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."

"Moony, Claw, Padfoot, Hot Shot and Prongs," sighed George, patting the heading of the map. "We owe them so much."

"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers," said Fred solemnly.

"Right," said George briskly. "Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it —"

"— or anyone can read it," Fred said warningly.

"Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."

"So, mind yourselves, We'll be watching you two!" Fred said warningly to Wolfie and I

"See you in Honeydukes," said George, winking.

They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.

Harry traced the secret passage to Honeydukes with his finger.

Then, quite suddenly, as though following orders, he rolled up the map, stuffed it inside his robes, and hurried to the door of the classroom. He opened it a couple of inches. There was no one outside. Very carefully, he edged out of the room and behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. Wolfie and I looked at each other then followed him out.

He pulled out the map again

"Dissendium!" Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch again. How did he know what to do?

At once, the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person. Harry glanced quickly up and down the corridor, then tucked the map away again, hoisted himself into the hole headfirst, and pushed himself forward, I climbed in after him, Wolfie right behind me.

I slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. I stood up, looking held up his wand, obviously casting the 'Lumos' spell and saw that we were in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway. Harry raised the map, tapped it with the tip of his wand, and muttered, "Mischief managed!" he folded it carefully, tucked it inside his robes then the three of us set set off. Along the way Harry told us how he had pulled out the map and found himself standing there on the map then little him had tapped the witch with his wand and a tiny speech bubble had appeared with the spell in it.

It took ages but after what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise. Ten minutes later, we came to the foot of some worn stone steps, which rose out of sight. Careful not to make any noise, we all began to climb. A hundred steps, two hundred steps, I lost count as I climbed, why decided to count the steps I have no idea but after a while Harry let out an 'Ow!'

It seemed to be a trapdoor. Harry stood there, massaging the top of his head, listening. I couldn't hear any sounds above us. Very slowly, he pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge. Harry crept out of the trapdoor and Wolfie and I followed.

We were in a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes. Wolfie climbed out of the trapdoor and replaced it, it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. We were about to leave when the door to the cellar opened.

"And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they've nearly cleaned us out —" said a woman's voice. A pair of feet was coming down the staircase. We leapt behind an enormous crate and waited for the footsteps to pass. I heard the man shifting boxes against the opposite wall. We might not get another chance, Harry and Wolfie seemed to have the same idea because quickly and silently, all three of us dodged out from our hiding place and climbed the stairs. We reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it, and found ourselves behind the counter of Honeydukes, we ducked and crept sideways, and then straightened up.

Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogwarts students that no one looked twice at three third years.

We edged among them, looking around, there were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavor Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet another wall were 'Special Effects' — sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps ('breathe fire for your friends!'), Ice Mice ('hear your teeth chatter and squeak!'), peppermint creams shaped like toads ('hop realistically in the stomach!'), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.

We squeezed through a crowd of sixth years and saw a sign hanging in the farthest

corner of the shop (UNUSUAL TASTES). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavored lollipops. Wolfie sneaked up behind them.

"Ugh, no, They won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect," Hermione was saying.

"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.

"Definitely not," said Wolfie.

Ron nearly dropped the jar.

"_WOLFIE_!" squealed Hermione. "West? Harry? What are you doing here? How — how did you?"

"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned to Apparate!"

"'Course we haven't," said Harry. He dropped his voice so that none of the sixth years could hear him and told them all about the Marauder's Map.

"How come Fred and George never gave it to _me_!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"

"But they aren't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "They're going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you?"

"No, we're not!" said the three of us said simultaneously

"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"

"If any of us hand it in, we'd have to say where we got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!" I shrieked

"But what about Sirius and Alohamora Black?" Hermione hissed. "They could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"

"They can't be getting in through a passage," said Harry quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three — one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one I just came through — well — it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar — so unless they knew it was there —" Harry hesitated. Ron, however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.

**BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC **

**Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of **

**Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius and Alohamora Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall. **

**Merry Christmas!**

"See?" said Ron quietly. "I'd like to see the Black's try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but — but —" Heroine seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. He hasn't got a signed form and you two have been **banned**! If anyone finds out, they'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet — what if the Black's turns up today? Now?"

"They'd have a job spotting Harry in this," said Ron, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. Harry deserves a break." Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.

"Are you going to report me?" Harry asked her, grinning.

"Oh — of course not — but honestly, Harry —"

"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?" said Ron, grabbing him and leading him over to their barrel. "And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Fred gave me one of those when I was seven — it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick." I laughed, Fred defiantly struck me as the type to do that "Reckon Fred'd take a bite of Cockroach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?"

When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, the five of us left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

We headed up the street with Hermione and Ron telling us what everything was

"That's the post office —"

"Zonko's is up there —"

"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack —"

"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"

"Yes, lets go. NOW!" Harry seemed to be freezing, went to an inn which was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"That's Madam Rosmerta," said Ron. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.

We made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying five foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.

"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

I drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of me from the inside. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. I looked over the rim of my tankard and choked.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak.

"It's Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic!" Ron whispered

"Oh who cares! Professor MaGonagall's here and those three are **not **supposed to be here!" Hermione snapped pushing Harry's head under the table, Wolfie and I followed in suit.

We watched as the teachers' and Fudge's feet move toward the bar, pause, then turn and walk right toward us. Somewhere above us, Hermione whispered, "_Mobiliarbus_!"

The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of our table, hiding us from view. Staring through the dense lower branches, I saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and minister as they sat down.

Next I saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.

"A small gillywater —"

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead —"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella —"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us…"

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

I watched the glittering heels march away and back again. Why hadn't it occurred to us that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers too? And how long were they going to sit there? Wolfie, Harry and I needed time to sneak back into Honeydukes if we wanted to return to school tonight.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Madam Rosmerta's voice.

I saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chair as though he were checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius and Alohamora Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?" Harry had told me about that, was Fudge still worried about the Black's entering the school?

"I did hear a rumor," admitted Madam Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

"Do you think the Black's are still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away… It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution… unfortunate, but there you are… I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore — he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse… We all know what the Black's are capable of…"

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius and Alohamora Black was the last I'd have thought… I mean, I remember them when they were at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what they were going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst they did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember them at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who their two best friend's were?"

"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Sirius was hardly ever seen without James Potter and Aloha, well Tommy Lestrange was with her 24/7, though she may have given him brain damage for the amount of times she hit him up the back of the head for making sexist comments." Harry dropped his glass with a loud clunck which caused Ron to kick him

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black, Wilde, Lestrange and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. All very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact — but I don't think we've ever had such a load of troublemakers —"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers and Lesrange defiantly saw Wilde as a sister!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends as Lestrange did Wilde, though she's now better known as Black. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry and Wilde was the godmother. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him. If I remember correctly Lestrange had a daughter, Melody, who Black was the godfather of and Lily was the godmother. The Black's themselves had a daughter, Venus, but no one knows who her godparents are, you see Venus went missing soon after the Potters were killed and it is assumed that Melody is being looked after by her mother, most likely Lestrange's idea, had to keep them safe. Lestrange had always seen himself as a danger to those around him."

"Who is her mother?" asked Rosemerta

"No one knows for sure but most think she is Nyx McMann, she used to work here did she not?"

"Yes yes, she did. Very close to Tommy as well."

"But it gets worse even than that, m'dear…" Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find — unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself… and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed —"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it —"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead… an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him —' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he said "I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to em anymore…"

"What about Alohamora? She wasn't the Potter's keeper!"

"No but You-Know-Who had been after Lestrange since he was two years old, a couple of months before he left school his brother, John, turned to You-Know-Who's side and within weeks his sister, Amelia, and her family were killed by death eaters. Not long after that his brother Jason and his family were murdered too, Lestrange started to panic, his family ment more to him than anything else. Lestrange was a very talented wizard, didn't bother going to see Dumbledore or anyone, went ahead and preformed the charm himself and got his sister, Lucy and her family hidden and his little sisters, Charlotte and Sophia hidden too. Conor, his other brother refused to be hidden, the pair had always resented each other and Conor wasn't keen to be protected by Tommy but he did agree to be the keeper for Lucy, Wilde was the keeper for the twins." Fudge said "Lestrange was extremely over protective of the twins and got the person he trusted most in the world to be the keeper only she was't as trustworthy as he'd thought, on the same day Black told You-Know-Who about the Potter's his wife told him about Charlotte and Sophia, not only that she told him where Tommy himself was staying, a bunch of Death Eaters had burst into his house earlier that day and tried to kill him, we found all of the Death Eater's bodies but no Tommy, he tried to warn his sisters only he was intercepted by Alohamora herself, we have a witness in Conor who was being held hostage by Wilde, she then tried to kill him herself, came close too because his blood was found at the scene along with the bodies of bystanders, Wilde knocked Conor unconcious so we don't know what happened after that but when we got there Lestrange was gone and Wilde was knocked out herself."

"Despite all Wilde had done Lestrange couldn't bring himself to even hurt her." McGonagall said "Yes, Lesrange loved Wilde like a sister but her betrayal must have hurt because after he payed a visit to Lucy to see if she was okay he was never seen again." Fudge said "Neither of their plans worked though,"

"Yes! The Minestry caught up with them the next day!"

"Alas, if only we had, while we had caught Wilde after getting a call from a man who went down the street for a gift for his wife Black was another story all together," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew — another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew… that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta.

"Hero — worshipped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I — how I regret that now…" She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses — Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later — told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…"

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy… foolish boy… he was always hopeless at dueling… should have left it to the Ministry…"

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands, I'd 've ripped him limb from limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I — I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him… a heap of bloodstained robes and a few — a few fragments —"

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Conor never quite recovered from his incident with Wilde, went insane. He's up in St Mungos now, who knows what Wilde had done to him before catching up with Lestrange, when he was questioned on it he broke into hysterics, going on about the unforgivables and the poor twins and warning Lucy. The Black's have been in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true they're mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that they were," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe their master's defeat unhinged them for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man — cruel… pointless and Wilde was truly in desperation to prove herself if she was willing to kill her best friend all for You-Know-Who. Yet I met the Black's on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them… but I was shocked at how _normal _the Black's seemed. They spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought they were merely bored — asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on them — and they were some of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside their door day and night."

"But what do you think they've broken out to do?" said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, they aren't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, are they?"

"I daresay that is their — er — eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch the Black's long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing… but give him back his most devoted servants, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again…"

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall. The teachers and Fudge got to their feet and the door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers had disappeared.

"Harry?"

Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. We all stared at Harry awaiting his response. He fled from under the table and raced to the door.

"Poor harry..." Hermione said

"Yeah, we should get back now anyway right West? We'll talk to him when we get back." Wolfie said

"Yeah bye." said Ron, Wolfie and I walked out and started down the street.

"Tommy... Do you reckon that's the same one from your vision?" I asked

"Maybe... Poor guy though, his best friend betraying him-" Wolfie stopped and stared straight ahead

"What is it?" I asked

"It's them..." she muttered walking towards the wanted posters of Sirius and Alohamora Black "They're Claw and Padfoot, they're from my vision, they were friends with professor Lupin, they created the Marauders Map."

"So Prongs was Harry's dad..." I whispered

"Yeah, he must be and that girl with green eyes must have been Harry's mum!"

"We should get back, we have to tell Hermione this!"

"Yeah, come on..." Wolfie said although she still seemed a bit out of it.

I don't know how we managed to get back to Hogwarts so easily but we did, a million questions ran through my head, I felt so bad for Tommy, Voldemort chasing him his whole life, his best friend betraying him most of his syblings dying, his brother going insane, another turning to the dark side, his friends dying, having to leave his own daughter to protect her... The poor man.

Wolfie and I went up to our dorm after diner and told Hermione we wanted to talk to her.

"What do you two want?" she asked upon entering the room

"Wolfie's figured out who Claw and Padfoot are." I said

"Oh really? So they're actually real?" I rolled my eyes, Hermione point blank refused to believe Wolfie could see the future.

"Yes, they're Sirius and Alohamora Black." Wolfie said "Prongs is James Potter and the green eyed girl is Lily Potter."

"W-What?" Hermione stuttered

"My visions all seem to be based around a wanted criminal!" Wolfie exclaimed "My visions are based around the wife of the man who practically murdered Harry's parents, around a woman who tried to kill her best friend for Voldemort!"

"We have to tell Harry!" Hermione said

"I thought you didn't believe her?" I said

"Well there is no way Wolfie knew the Black's were friends with this Tommy guy, Lupin and Harry's parents and she couldn't have known what they looked like!" I shrugged and we got up and ran to the boys dorm.

"Harry?" I said, Ron was the only other person up here, it looked like he had been trying to talk to Harry but hadn't gotten much out of him

"Yeah?" He said sitting up and turning to me

"Wolfie has something to tell you." Wolfie explained everything, the visions, who was in them, everything.

"Y-You've seen my parents? When they were at school?" Harry was shocked, I sat down next to him and rubbed his back as he stared in disbelief at Wolfie

"Bloody hell." said Ron, I was beginning to realize that was a catch phrase of his

"So, Black and Wilde were friends with professor Lupin too? And they invented the Marauders Map?" Harry said

"Yeah." I said, he leaned his head on my shoulder

"What does this mean? Are you having these premonitions for a reason? Should we tell Dumbledore?" Harry rambled

"We should really get out of here, the rest of the boys will be coming up soon." Hermione said dragging Wolfie out the door

"Try to get some sleep will you?" I said to Harry getting up

"I'll try..."

The next day was the start of the holidays, Harry was the last one up and came down to see our nice empty common room save for Ron, who was eating a Peppermint Toad and massaging his stomach, Hermione, who had spread her homework over three tables, Wolfie who was staring intently at the fire and me who was reading.

"Where is everyone?" said Harry.

"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ron, watching Harry closely. "It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."

Harry slumped down next to me.

"You really don't look well, you know," Hermione said, peering anxiously into his face.

"I'm fine," said Harry.

"Harry, listen," said Hermione, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday and about Wolfie's premonitions. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."

"Like what?" said Harry.

"Like trying to go after the Black's," said Wolfie sharply.

"You won't, will you, Harry?" I asked

"Because the Black's are not worth dying for," said Ron.

"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Harry asked angrily "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her —"

"There's nothing you can do!" said Hermione, looking stricken. "The Dementors will catch the Black's and they'll go back to Azkaban and — and serve them right!"

"You heard what Fudge said. The Black's aren't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for them like it is for the others."

"So what are you saying?" said Ron, looking very tense. "You want to — to kill the Black's or something?"

"Don't be silly," said Hermione in a panicky voice. "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?" Harry didn't answer.

"Malfoy knows," he said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt them down myself… I'd want revenge.'" this came as news, Malfoy... that was the blonde Slytherin I sat next to in Potions

"You're going to take Malfoy's advice instead of ours?" said Ron furiously. "Listen… you know what Pettigrew's mother got back after Black had finished with him? Dad told me — the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Lestrange has never been seen again and his brothers been stuck in St Mungos ever since, they're dangerous—"

"Malfoy's dad must have told him," said Harry, ignoring Ron. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle —"

"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" interjected Ron angrily.

"— so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort —"

"— and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew or go insane like Conor Lestrange! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."

"Harry, _please_," said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears, "_Please _be sensible. The Black's did some terrible, terrible things, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what the Black's want… Oh, Harry, you'd be playing right into the Black's hands if you went looking for them. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for the Black's!"

"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," said Harry shortly.

"Look," said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's — let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"

"No!" said Hermione quickly. "Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron —"

"Yeah, let's go," said Harry, sitting up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned the Black's when he told me all about my parents!"

"Or we could have a game of chess," he said hastily, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set —"

"No, let's visit Hagrid," said Harry firmly.

So we made our way slowly (far too slowly for my liking)down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the snow, freezing all the way. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

Ron knocked, but there was no answer.

"He's not out, is he?" said Wolfie, who was shivering under her cloak.

Harry had his ear to the door.

"There's a weird noise," he said. "Listen — is that Fang?" I put my ear against the door, inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.

"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ron nervously.

"Hagrid!" called Harry, thumping the door. "Hagrid, are you in there?"

There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest.

"You've heard?" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto Harry's neck.

Harry, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Ron and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him back into the cabin. Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.

"Hagrid, what is it?" said Hermione, aghast.

I spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.

"What's this, Hagrid?"

Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward me, I picked it up and read it out:

**"Dear Mr. Hagrid, **

**Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident." **I was lost, what the heck was a Hippogriff?

"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ron, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting me to read on.

**"However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated. **

**Yours in fellowship… "**

There followed a list of the school governors.

"Oh," said Ron. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off."

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" choked Hagrid, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"

A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made us whip around. A creature, hat had the front legs, wings, and head of a giant egale and the body, hind legs and tail of a horse, was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.

"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."

"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid," said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."

"Won' make no diff'rence!" sobbed Hagrid. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! Ad if I lose the case, Buckbeak —"

Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.

"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" said Harry.

"He's done more'n enough fer me already," groaned Hagrid. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Alohamora and Sirius Black lurkin' around."

"He can't left Buckbeak die! **We** can't let him die. It is cruel and unfair, animals and creatures have rights to!" Wolfie said

"Exactly! You can't give up. Hermione's right, You just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses -" Harry said

"I'm sure I've read about a case of hippogriff-baiting," said Hermione thoughtfully, "where the hippogriff got off I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened." Hagrid howled still more loudly.

"Er - shall I make a cup of tea?" said Ron. Westared at him like he'd just grown two heads "It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.

At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together... " Fang (the dog) came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee. "I've not bin meself lately," said Hagrid, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes -"

"We do like them!" Wolfie said enthusiasticaly

"Yeah, they're great!" said Ron, crossing his fingers under the table. "Er - how are the flobberworms?"

"Dead," said Hagrid gloomily. "Too much lettuce."

"Oh no!" said Wolfie

"An' them dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban -" Harry had told me and Wolfie about that too, that really wasn't fair on poor Hagrid

"Is it awful in there, Hagrid?" asked Hermione

"Yeh've no idea," said Hagrid quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind... the day I got expelled from Hogwarts... day me dad died... day I had ter let Norbert go... Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' really see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep. When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."

"But you were innocent!" said Hermione.

Hagrid snorted.

"Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not." Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go... tryin' ter make him fly away... but how d'yeh explain ter a hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An' -an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law..." He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Well here is the next chapter, we hope you like Lost. Please R&R—Darnet XD**

WPOV: Christmas

I was fuming as we left Hagrid's hut, they couldn't kill Buckbeak! Oh when I get my hands on Malfoy he'll wish he'd never set foot in Hagrid's class! I marched up to the girls dorms a started to dig for the entire book collection I have on animals, Blade and Hermione watched from the corner not sure what to do. No that a blame them, I mean when I'm mad it is best not to talk to me, bad things happen. By the time I was done our dorm was a sea of books on magical creatures and court cases involving them. I opened a random one and started flicking through the pages with rage and then I realized I couldn't read that well. I mean I could read a few words as such but I wasn't this great at it. I threw the book away in frustration and pulled my knees up to my chest and buried my head in my legs.

"We'll help him Wolfie, really I'll read all this and you can help. I mean you already have." Hermione sat down next to me and put a hand on my back.

"I just feel so useless."

"You're not! You and Iggy are getting better all the time."

"Thanks Hermione."

"No problem." I sighed and started piling up my books, Hermione and Blade helping me in the process.

"Come on Wolfie cheer up, tomorrow is Christmas!" Blade said she was smiling happily.

"I've never had a real Christmas before. Nick said you have, when you lived with Jeb."

"Let's not get into the Jeb mess, but yes I've had a real Christmas and let me tell you Christmas rules."

"Wolfie do you even know what happens at Christmas?" I thought for a bit.

"I only know what Nick told me." I said shrugging, "He said you give gifts to your friends and eat a big meal." I looked at them.

"Did you manage to get gifts?" I nodded. Once we had finished cleaning the room we went to bed, I wasn't tired. I sighed and looked up at the celling hoping I could just get a good night's sleep without any strange visions.

"_Merry Christmas Paddy!" Alohamora's voice rang out, the boys in the room groaned. _

"_Kitten it is eight in the morning let us sleep in longer." There was a murmur of agreement. _

"_I just thought James would want to see Lily early, I mean she is waiting to give him is Christmas kiss." They had aged a lot. They now looked like they were in their last year at Hogwarts. James jumped out of bed. _

"_Lil's I'm coming." He ran from the room. _

"_Love sick puppy he is." Alohamora muttered. She gave a squeal as Sirius grabbed her from behind lowering her down to lay next to him. "Sirius, get off me! I'll set my body guard on you!" her threat was lost as she was laughing her head off. _

"_Your body guard is snoring his head of kitten." _

"_I am not!" Tommy yelled. I heard a chuckle. "Shut it Moony!" soon all four of them were rolling around laughing. _

"_Are you guys coming down Wormtail is getting impatient."_

"_James, stop picking on Peter."_

I jolted awake as Hermione jumped on my bed,

"Merry Christmas Wolfie." It took me a while to figure out where I was.

"You had another vision didn't you?" Blade asked.

"Yeah, they looked like they were in seventh year."

"What happened in this vision?" Hermione asked.

"They were just having a laugh, it was Christmas. It is horrid watching how much they trusted the Black's. It sounded like Tommy was really protective of Alohamora." I shivered.

"Let's not worry about it. After all it is Christmas so let's go down stairs and open our presents with the guys." Blade stood up and walked down stairs I followed excitedly along. Once we reach the stairs Harry and Ron were already there.

"Thank Merlin you're here, Harry wouldn't let me start opening my presents until you came down stairs," Ron said and he dove into the mass of presents. I joined him quickly after words and the rest laughed. Smiling I opened my first Present it was from Mrs Weasley, it was a jumper. It was light blue and incredibly soft, on the front was a big golden 'W'. I smiled and looked at Blade's jumper, hers was dark blue with a white 'W' on the front.

I shoved the jumper over my head and Blade followed in suit. Harry was wearing a scarf along with Hermione and Ron was sporting a nice maroon jumper. I opened the rest Harry had given me this quill that helped you learn how to write quicker. Hermione had gotten me a book to learn how to read quicker. Ron had given me chocolate frogs (a massive box!) Fang had given me an awesome top that read 'I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent' it made me chuckle. Nudge got me weird hair things that she'll have to show me how to use. Gazzy got me some Bertie Bots every flavoured beans. Angel gave me a bracelet that she had made herself (she made sure to stress that in her letter) which had a wolf charm made out of wood on hit. Blade got me a massive collection of Zonko's stuff (She hinted not to subtly that we should give the Marauders a run for their money). I smiled at my friends who were equally has happy with their gifts. I thought that was it, I wasn't expecting one from Max and I wouldn't be surprised if Iggy had forgotten me. But I was proven wrong when Hermione took the second last present from under the tree.

"This one is for you Wolfie." I took it. It was a small box shaped gift I opened it and a letter fell out.

'Dear Pup (Like the nickname?)

Thought I'd forget you. How could I forget the person who gave me the gift of sight? Hope you like the gift. Can't write much more, for reasons you know.

From

Iggy (Jeff) Ride'

I opened the box and gasped. Inside there was a locket in the shape of two wings. I looked at the back 'Pup' was engraved on the back. I giggled and opened it, it played I song I had told him was my favourite 'Marchin on by one republic.' I smiled and put it around my neck.

"Hey Harry this one's yours mate." Ron said handing Harry a massive box. Harry ripped the paper off and opened the lid. Inside was a broomstick (I still wouldn't ride one of them if you paid me to) he gasped as he picked it up.

"It's a firebolt."

"Wow, that's the fastest broom out there. That makes your Nimbus 2000 look like a snail!" Ron looked in awe at the clean utensil.

"Who's it from Harry?" I asked, he looked around for some note but didn't find one.

"I don't know, there is no note."

"What! You have to give it to McGonagall to check it. The Black's could have sent you that Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. I wave of worry washed over me,

"But how would the Black's get a great big ruddy parcel in the castle without anyone seeing?" Ron questioned.

"I don't know but we have to tell McGonagall!" Hermione looked exasperated.

"We are not telling McGonagall, Hermione ok!" Harry said, Hermione looked like she had more to say but held her tongue.

-o-O-o-

We were running around outside after lunch having a massive snow ball fight. It was me and Harry verses Blade and Ron. The only way we could decide teams was drawing straws, no one was winning. After a while we gave up on teams and just went everyone for them self's. Hermione watched us from a far, shaking her head at us. I squealed as Harry tackled me to the ground and proceeded to pelt me with snowballs.

"Harry get off, you're heavy!" I protested.

"Are you not supposed to be stronger than a normal human?" he chuckled.

"Well yeah if I attempted to shove you off I may hurt you. Don't know my own strength sometimes." Harry Just chuckled as I continued to squirm. "Harry I can't breathe!" he stood up and helped me up.

"I'm not that heavy!"

"Could have fooled me!" That was another snowball in the face. It was fun playing in the snow and we trudged back up to the common room to get changed and go to dinner. We went down to the great hall, I kept looking for Hermione but she wasn't there so we just went down without her.

Hermione came and sat next to me five minutes in, she casting glances to Harry. After we had eaten Ron looked at Harry,

"Let's go look at the Firebolt some more. We can ride it tomorrow."

-o-O-o-

I was curled up on one of the arm chairs fiddling with one of the Zonko's pranks Blade had given me. Harry was using his broom kit thing Hermione had given him. Ron and Blade were playing Exploding Snap I don't know where Hermione was, she was acting really weird at dinner. I sighed and put the Zonko's product away, it was a good thing I did. McGonagall came marching through the portrait hole. She looked at Harry and his broom. Behind her was Hermione, please tell me she hasn't done what I think she has.

"Potter had over the broom."

"What? Why?"

"It could be jinxed by the Black's we need to strip it down and check it" Harry glared at Hermione as he handed over is most prized possession. McGonagall marched from the room and left.

"How could you do that?"

"I was worried about you Harry, what happened if you went to ride that and I was jinxed? I couldn't live with myself!"

"She is going to strip it down!" Ron yelled angrily at her.

"HEY!" I yelled standing up and walking over to Hermione's side. "She is only looking out for you, she's being a good friend. I think you are being really unfair toward her, McGonagall will give you it back good as new and we will know it is safe for you to ride!" Harry glared at Hermione and stormed off to his dorm, Ron following closely behind.

"They'll come around Hermione, you'll see." Said Blade.

"Yeah, let's go to bed." Blade and I looked at each other and walked up to our dorm. Once I was changed I snuggled down into my covers, relishing the warmth. I opened my locket under the covers so it was muffled and I fell asleep.

_I wasn't in Hogwarts anymore; I was in some random house. Tommy was standing in front of me his first clenched, his jaw set. A he was glaring at a man with short blonde hair, his eyes so like Fang's. He was very tall. His face was cold, hard as he glared at Tommy. _

"_You're only family, your own twin!" Tommy shouted at the man._

"_The Death Eaters will win Tommy and for the good of the world I have to hand you in."_

"_What happened to you John, what happened to the big brother that always defended his family?"_

"_Self-preservation kicks in Tommy; it is every man for himself out there! Alohamora is next on his hit list once I've got you he'll go after her."_

"_You lead him to Amy! You let him kill her!" Tommy looked livid. Who was he?_

"_Voldemort is strong I fight for him." Well that answers that question. There was a bang. "You have just made it ten times easier for him by bringing your little friend along." Alohamora stepped into the room her face full of rage. _

"_You betrayed your family! You betrayed your friends!" she shouted. 'Hypocrite' came to mind. _

"_Amy was a sacrifice that had to be made Alohamora; the rest will follow if they don't join us."_

"_How can you stand there? How can you justify what you have done?"_

"_Now come on you two we are wasting time, he is coming. Or well the Death Eaters are." Glass surrounded us, blood spilled onto the floor. _

"_HELP!" I called out "Help please make it stop!" Masked men arrived chanting something I couldn't understand. Green lights flashed, red lights followed. Masked men fell motionless to the ground. Death surrounded me like an endless void. "Death, so much death!" My head felt like it was going to explode. I cradled my head in my hands and screamed out in pain, a snake like being came into the room, his cold laughing ringing out. His piercing red eyes looked around the room he was a predator and Tommy was his pray. I screamed hoping someone; anyone would save me, save Tommy. I wanted to the fiery pain my head to stop! Then everything went black, like all the happiness in the world had been sucked out and would never return._

**Well there you have it R&R.**


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6: SCABBERS AND THE MARAUDERS

I woke up to the sound of someone screaming, I shot up out of bed, Wolfie had her hands clasped around her head as if she were trying to hold it together and she was screaming in agony.

"Wolfie? Wolfie what's wrong?" I asked sitting next to her

"What's she screaming at? She get a headache or something?" asked Lavender Brown

"Go back to bed Brown, West and I will deal with her." Hermione said and sat on the other side. When Wolfie had calmed down enough to tell us what happened (she still had a headache though) we were shocked, she'd had a dream where a seventeen year old Tommy and Alohamora confronted a man named John (who we're assuming is his brother who went to Voldemort's side) and Death Eaters came to kill them. We were also confused, why would Voldemort want to kill one of his own Death Eaters or was Alohamora not one of them at this point? Hermione voiced this question out loud to Harry and Ron the next day when we told them about the vision.

"Maybe this John guy was trying to keep Wilde's cover as a good guy?" Ron suggested

"Maybe but if they were on the same side at that time then Wilde must be a damn good actress because if I didn't what she was eventually gonna do I would have thought her and Tommy were really good friends..." Wolfie mused

"Well I don't know but I guess we'll figure it out." Harry said.

Between Quidditch practice and his Dementor warding lessons, we hardly saw Harry, Wolfie stayed up most nights and got a couple of hours sleep in a desperate attempt to avoid more visions like the last one, she was also reluctant to touch anything or even leave the dorm. It wasn't until February that McGonagall told Harry he could have his Firebolt back. Harry was racing towards the common room grinning ear to ear, Firebolt in hand while Ron and I were out looking for him.

"She gave it to You?" Ron said grinning back, Harry nodded "Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah... anything," said Harry looking happier than I'd ever seen him. "You know what - we should make up with Hermione... She was only trying to help..."

"Yes! Finlay you see since!" I said

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. "She's in the common room with Wolfie, working, for a change -"

We turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville, pleading with Sir Cadogan, the new painting, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.

"I wrote them down!" Neville was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting me, Harry and Ron "Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"

"Oh, shut up," said Ron as we drew level with Neville.

"I've lost the passwords!" Neville said miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"Oddsbodikins," said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let us into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt.

"Where'd you get it, Harry?"

"Will you let me have a go?"

"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?"

"Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"

"Can I just hold it, Harry?"

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was Passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and we had a clear view of Wolfie and Hermione, the only two who hadn't rushed over to us, Hermione was bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes while Wolfie was starting intently at the book to help her learn to read faster. We approached them table and at last, they looked up at us.

"I got it back," said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.

"Well - there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry. "I'd better put it upstairs."

"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase.

"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione as I sat in the seat next to Wolfie

"I suppose so," said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked her.

"Oh, well - you know - working hard," said Hermione.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" I asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.

"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly. "It's my favorite subject! It's -"

But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, we never found out. At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder - and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table.

"LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what -?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. I looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like -

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N - no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. The four of us leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.

It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship. Ron was enraged that Hermione had never taken Crookshanks's attempts to eat Scabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him, and Wolfie was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting that Ron look for Scabbers under all the boys' beds and Hermione maintained fiercely that Ron had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ron had been prejudiced against her cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ron's head in the Magical Menagerie. Harry was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, and when he tried to point out to Hermione that the evidence all pointed that way, she lost her temper with Harry too.

"Okay, side with Ron, I knew you would!" she said shrilly. "First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, everything's my fault, isn't it! just leave me alone, Harry, I've got a lot of work to do!"

"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Fred bracingly. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly - one swallow - he probably didn't feel a thing."

"Fred!" said Ginny indignantly.

"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself," said George.

"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember, Harry?"

"Yeah, that's true," said Harry.

"His finest hour," said Fred, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, what's the point of moaning?"

In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry persuaded him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he could have a ride on the Firebolt after they'd finished. This did seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment so they set off for the Quidditch field together. Hermione told Wolfie she had to get some sleep, she'd collapse if she didn't. We offered to stay with her and wake her up if she looked like she was having a premonition so reluctantly, Wolfie went to bed. I was taking first watch, sitting beside Wolfie when she took a deep breath, I shook her shoulders but instead of waking her up there was a bright flash and suddenly I wasn't by Wolfie's bedside, I was in a house. On one side of the room was a young man with blue eyes and dark brown hair talking to two identical young woman who each had long wavy blonde hair and dark brown eyes, standing to the side was a young Alohamora Black, standing next to me was a man with dark blue eyes and messy blonde hair that stuck up at odd angles he was talking to a tall woman with dark brown eyes and blue hair. It seemed that by touching Wolfie I'd been sucked into her premonition, I'd read about this happening but it was rare. The two closest to me were talking in hushed whispers

_"No, I don't trust him!" The man said glaring at the other man_

_"You trust Alohamora over your own brother?" the woman asked_

_"Yes I do, you got a problem with that Lucy?" he answered her _

_"Yeah, I don't trust __**her**__!" Lucy told him_

_"She's my best friend, she's been there for me when no one else was, not even you!"_

_"I've always had your best interests at heart Tommy!"_

_"Yeah? Sure could have fooled me."_

_"Oh come on! This isn't about what I've done this is about you not trusting Conor!"_

_"What's to trust?" Tommy folded his arm and glared at Lucy_

_"You're letting your feelings get in the way of your judgement just like you did with John! He was the perfect brother, he knew things about you that only Wilde, Lupin and Evans ever did and then he went and told You-Know-Who-"_

_"He has a name, why don't you try using it for once. Vol-de-mort." Lucy glared at him_

_"He went and told You-Know-Who," Tommy rolled his eyes "All about you, your skills, your weaknesses everything! Just look what happened because of that!"_

_"Yeah but Conor was always the idiot, couldn't even pull off a simple transfiguration spell without the help of that Alice girl and then all of a sudden, the second he gets out of school, he can take on twenty Death Eaters all on his own and that doesn't strike you as weird?"_

_"Tommy, he's a Hufflepuff you know, loyal and kind!"_

_"If you trust him so much then he can be __**your **__secret keeper!"_

_"You should get a keeper too, You-Know-Who only wants us so he can get to you, you're gonna need more protection than anyone else in the world!" Lucy said her voice rising_

_"What about Lily, James and Harry? You know Voldemort wants them too!"_

_"Yes but he's been after you since you were two, he'll throw a celebration party when he gets your head on a platter!"_

_"So let him! My family and friends are all that matter to me!"_

_"You can't be serious!" Lucy's face was one of hurt and shock_

_"Yeah, you're right. Charlie, Sophie, Aloha, Sirius, Celia, Remus, the Potter's, you and your family are all I care about." _

_"What about Peter?"_

_"I don't trust him, I never have plus he's always hated me since the day we met on the train."_

_"What about Melody and-"_

_"She's gone Lucy! I don't know where she is or even if she's alive!" _

_"No!" Lucy covered her mouth with her hands "What about Nyx? She was looking after Mels!"_

_"Nyx is... She's dead." Tommy looked down sadly_

_"But the papers never said anything..."_

_"They're trying to cover it up when I went home on Saturday the door was ripped off it's hinges, there was blood everywhere, Nyx was lying outside Mel's bedroom door with claw marks all over her, one arm practically ripped off and Melody was gone. The Minister is trying to hush it all up because they don't know how it happened and they don't want to cause panic but Conor told me he has a theory. His theory is supported by Peter and even the twins admitted that it was possible." Tommy looked down at Lucy_

_"What theory?" Lucy sounded sad yet curious at the same time_

_"I know you're going to agree with them but please don't run over and tell the Ministry. You remember how you all found that tiger that suddenly turned into Aloha?" Lucy nodded "Conor reckons Aloha went over, turned into a tiger and mauled Nyx in a fit of rage or jealousy or, and this is the reason he seems to believe, because she's the mole for Voldemort."_

_"I knew it! You can't let her be a keeper! It makes sense! Alohamora knew all the information You-Know-Who ever got, she can turn into a tiger which could have easily mauled Nyx, she's still upset about Venus getting kidnapped and she's close to you so she could give information about you! Don't you see? It all makes sense, it's her it's always been her!"_

_"No! Aloha's not like that! She wouldn't! She couldn't! Aloha is my best friend and your sister-in-law, she wouldn't kill Nyx and she certainly wouldn't do anything the Melody!" Tommy sounded angry_

_"You don't know that Tommy... All the evidence clearly points to her, you have to listen to me Tommy..."_

The image faded and suddenly I was back in the dorm with Wolfie, Wolfie sat up and clutched her head.

"I thought you said you'd wake me if I started having a premonition!" she snapped

"I tried to but... I don't know... I sort of got... sucked into the vision..." I said

"You saw what I saw?" she asked

"Depends, what did you see?"

"Tommy and his sister Lucy were talking-"

"Yep, we saw the same thing." I said "Go back to sleep, you don't normally have two premonitions in a row."

"Are you gonna tell Hermione, Ron and Harry now?"

"Tell 'em tomorrow after Quidditch when Harry and Ron'll hopefully be in a better mood and be able to have a civil conversation with Hermione." I told her.

Wolfie and I were at breakfast the next morning as Harry walked in holding his Firebolt with the whole of the boys dorm behind him, heads turned to stare and Harry looked exceptionally pleased with himself when he noticed the Slytherin's faces.

"Did you see his face?" said Ron gleefully, looking back at Malfoy as they all sat down. "He can't believe it! This is brilliant!" Wood, too, was basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt.

"Put it here, Harry," he said, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that its name faced upward. People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Cedric Diggory came over to congratulate Harry on having acquired such a superb replacement for his Nimbus, and Percy's Ravenclaw girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, asked if she could actually hold the Firebolt.

"Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!" said Percy heartily as she examined the Firebolt closely. "Penelope and I have got a bet on," he told the team. "Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!" Penelope put the Firebolt down again, thanked Harry, and went back to her table. "Harry - make sure you win," said Percy, in an urgent whisper. "I haven't got ten Galleons. Yes, I'm coming, Penny!" And-he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.

"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice. Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Coyle right behind him. I groaned, he always annoyed me all through Potions, the only highlight of sitting next to him was Snape favoured him and therefore me too.

"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.

"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute, in case you get too near a dementor." Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you." The Gryffindor team laughed loudly. Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed, and he stalked away.

The stadium cheered as each team walked out to the pitch.

"Wood, Davies, shake hands," Madam Hooch said briskly, and Wood shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain. "Mount your brooms... on my whistle... three - two - one -"

Harry kicked off into the air and the Firebolt zoomed higher and faster than any other broom; he soared around the stadium and began squinting around for the Snitch, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship -"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor - just giving a bit of background information - the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and -"

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal..."

Harry streaked past Katie in the opposite direction, gazing around for a glint of gold and noticing that Cho Chang was tailing him closely. She was undoubtedly a very good flier - she kept cutting across him, forcing him to change direction. Harry urged the Firebolt forward as they rounded the Ravenclaw goal posts and Cho fell behind. Just as Katie succeeded in scoring the first goal of the match,Harry dived; Cho saw what he was doing and tore after him - Harry was speeding up, excitement flooding him; dives were his speciality, he was ten feet away - Then a Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came pelting out of nowhere; Harry veered off course, avoiding it by an inch. George decided to vent his feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.

"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn - Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision balance is really noticeable in these long -"

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead - if Cho got the Snitch before him, Ravenclaw would win. Harry turned his Firebolt upward and was soon twenty feet above the game. Cho was following him, she'd decided to mark him rather than search for the Snitch dived again, and Cho, thinking he'd seen the Snitch, tried to follow; Harry pulled out of the dive very sharply; she hurtled downward; he rose fast as a bullet once more. He accelerated; so did Cho. He was winning, gaining on the Snitch with every second - then -

"Oh!" screamed Cho, pointing. Distracted, Harry looked down. Three dementors, three tall, black, hooded dementors, were looking up at him. Plunging a hand down the neck of his robes, Harry whipped out his wand and roared, "Expecto patronum!"

Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wand. Harry carried on with the game and stretched out the hand still grasping his wand and just managed to close his fingers over the small, struggling Snitch. Madam Hooch's whistle sounded. The whole of Gryffindor ran to Harry pulling him into hugs.

"Yes!" Ron yelled, yanking Harry's arm into the air. "Yes! Yes!"

"Well done, Harry!" said Percy, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me -"

"Good for you, Harry!" roared Seamus Finnigan.

"Ruddy brilliant!" boomed Hagrid.

"That was quite some Patronus," said Professor Lupin wandering up

"The dementors didn't affect me at all!" Harry said excitedly. "I didn't feel a thing!"

"That would be because they - er - weren't dementors," said Professor Lupin. "Come and see - " We followed Lupin to the side of the pitch

"You gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright," said Lupin. We all stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team Captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall.

"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

"Come on, Harry!" said George, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," said Harry

"Of course, you're invited too ladies," said Fred grinning at Wolfie and I, this would delay our plans to tell the three of them about the vision but hey, it was a time for celebration!

It felt as though we had already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

"How did you do that?" squealed Angelina Johnson as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

"With a little help from Moony, Claw, Padfoot, Hot Shot and Prongs," Fred muttered, with a grin to Harry, Wolfie and myself. Only one person wasn't joining in the festivities. Hermione, incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. Harry broke away from the table where Fred and George had started juggling butterbeer bottles and went over to her. The pair were talking until Ron said loudly-

"If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them -" Hermione burst into tears. Before Harry could say or do anything, she tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran toward the staircase to the girls' dormitories and out of sight.

"Can't you give her a break?" Wolfie asked Ron quietly as Harry came back over

"No," said Ron flatly. "If she just acted like she was sorry... but she'll never admit she's wrong, Hermione. She's still acting like Scabbers has gone on vacation or something."

The Gryffindor party ended only when Professor McGonagall turned up in her tartan dressing gown and hair net at one in the morning, to insist that they all go to bed. Harry and Ron climbed the stairs to their dormitory, still discussing the match. Wolfie and I went up to our own dorm, I offered Wolfie my bed, since Alohamora wouldn't have spent time in that bed she shouldn't have any problems with her visions. Our sleep was cut short by a load of noise coming from the common room.

"Arrh! Have they started that damn party again?" groaned Wolfie

"Let's go have a look..." I grumbled getting out of bed

"What's going on?" I asked wandering down the stairs

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" asked George brightly.

"Everyone back upstairs!" said Percy, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pajamas as he spoke.

"Percy - Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!" The common room went very still.

"Nonsense!" said Percy, looking startled. "You had too much to eat, Ron - had a nightmare -"

"I'm telling you -"

"Now, really, enough's enough!" Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare -"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!" Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw -"

Glaring suspiciously at Ron, Professor McGonagall pushed the Portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with bated breath. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan. There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

"You - you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But - but the password!"

"He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!" Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk.

"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?" There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville, trembling from head to fluffy slippered toes, raised his hand slowly into the air. I very much doubt that many people slept that night but by the time morning came, Wolfie and I had managed to get Hermione and Ron in a room together with Harry and explained to them what had happened in the vision and that I'd seen it.

"So you're saying that Melody was kidnapped also?" Ron was still white and shaking from his incounter with Sirius Black.

"Yes, Nyx, her mother, was mauled. Lucy thought it was Aloha, she's can change into a tiger, like me a wolf." answered Wolfie, I neglected to mention my unique ability to tranceform myself into a liger.

"An Animagus, that would explain how she got past the demntors, that's brilliant." Hermione said

"You make it sound like a good thing." Wolfie mumbled.

"Oh no it isn't good. But it is still genius."Hermione said.

"I don't know." Wolfie started.

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned.

"Something doesn't add up, that's all. I have a feeling that we are missing something, that we are missing something big." Wolfie had a worried look on her face, a look I didn't like.

"I bet Tommy must feel like a right git after telling Lucy that he didn't trust Conor and then Aloha going and betraying him!" Ron said

"Look!" Wolfie snapped, stunning as all "You should feel like a right git by the way you are treating Hermione!"

"Her bloody cat **ate **Scabbers! Not only that but she won't beleive it and let's that thing run wild to eat other poor, unsuspecting pets!"

"Crookshanks is innocent until proven other wise! Plus you shouldn't let that break up your friendship with Hermione! If you aren't talking to her because of such a idiotic reason you aren't talking to me! I am sick of you treating her like dirt, she is your best friend, well one of them. She's always there for you when you need help. But instead of thanking her you make snide comments, make her feel small. When you do that your no better than Malfoy! So until you say sorry for being such a pig headed jerk and Hermione forgives you I am not your friend either. I am on Hermione's side!" She yelled at him. Well I guess lack of sleep really makes her speak her mind.

"I'm not apologizing until she says sorry to me!" Ron yelled back "Her cat ate my rat and I want an apology!" He then proceeded to stomp out of the room and down to breakfast

"You better not apologize to him. You did nothing wrong" she then turned to Harry. "You aren't mad at her are you?"

"Not at Hermione no." Harry answered "I'd better go and try to calm him down." Harry left as well.

"Well I have a heap of work to get through for Monday, so I'm off to-"

"The library." Wolfie and I finished, Hermione nodded and rushed to her room for her books.

"Hey, I'll come with you, I want to practice my reading." Wolfie said to Hermione as she ran back down. I sighed, if Alohamora didn't kill Nyx who did? How did they do it? Where is Melody? What happened to Tommy? Is Sirius Black an animagus too? Is that how he escaped?

"Hey what was all that shouting for?" Fred asked walking out of the boy's staircase with George

"What's up West? You look a little pale." George said

"I'm fine, just... Didn't get much sleep last night." I told them

"Don't think anyone did," Fred said

"Sirius Black at our little brothers bed!" George finished, I hit him on the arm

"Don't joke about that!" Trust them to find that an achievement

"Why are you sitting here all alone anyway?" asked Fred

"Ron had an argument with Wolfie and went down to the Great Hall with Harry and Wolfie went to the library with Hermione and I'm not picking sides."

"Spend the day with us then! We are very bored and could use someone as ingenious as you." George said grinning

"I don't see why not, what are you planning on doing?" I asked, they grinned mischievously.

So while my friends were off in a huff doing whatever the hell it is they did all day I spent the day with the Weasley twins. We spent the day playing pranks on unsuspecting Slytherins and joking around, I didn't just spend that day with them I spent just about everyday with them. A Hogsmeade weekend was coming up and Hermione, Ron, Wolfie and Harry still hadn't made up, I spent an increasing about of time with the Weasley twin and Wolfie had opted to sleep on the floor so she didn't have to steal my bed or sleep in her own.

"So Westy, are you going to come to Hogsmeade with us?" Fred started

"Or them?" George added darkly, I hit him on the shoulder

"That's not funny!" I laughed at him

"Such violence!" George joked

"You seem to enjoy hitting Georgie more than me. That means she likes me more!" Fred said grinning

"I challenge thee to a duel for the fair maiden!" George jumped up on the couch grabbing a pillow

"I accept, prepare to meet thy doom!"

"En guard!" and they started a pillow fight, they're idiots but I couldn't help but laugh.

On Saturday the three of us made our way to Hogsmeade,We spent most of the time at Zonko's but we noticed Ron up in one corner talking to himself. Harry. We followed them to the Shrieking Shack easily keeping out of sight.

"Even the Hogwarts ghosts avoid it," said Ron as they leaned on the fence, looking up at it. "I asked Nearly Headless Nick... he says he's heard a very rough crowd lives here. No one can get in. Fred and George tried, obviously, but all the entrances are sealed shut..."

"Oh, he's talking about us!" Fred said with his hand on his heart

"How sweet!" George added

"Yeah, he does that a lot. Fred said this, George did that etcetera etcetera." I told them

Someone was climbing toward the house from the other side of the hill; moments later, Malfoy had appeared, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy was speaking.

"... should have an owl from Father any time now. He had to go to the hearing to tell them about my arm... about how I couldn't use it for three months..." Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. "I really wish I could hear that great hairy moron trying to defend himself... 'There's no 'arm in 'im, 'onest that hippogriff's as good as dead -" Malfoy suddenly caught sight of Ron. His pale face split in a malevolent grin.

"What are you doing, Weasley?" Malfoy looked up at the crumbling house behind Ron.

"Suppose You'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Weasley? Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room - is that true? We were just discussing your friend Hagrid," Malfoy said to Ron. "Just trying to imagine what he's saying to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. D'you think he'll cry when they cut off his hippogriff's-" SPLAT. Malfoy's head jerked forward as a ball of mud hit him; his blonde hair was suddenly dripping in muck. "What the -?"

Ron had to hold onto the fence to keep himself standing, he was laughing so hard. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle spun stupidly on the spot, staring wildly around, Malfoy trying to wipe his hair clean.

"What was that? 'Who did that?"

"Very haunted up here, isn't it?" said Ron, Crabbe and Goyle looked scared. Malfoy was staring madly around at the deserted landscape. Harry. Again.

SPLATTER. Crabbe and Goyle caught some this time. Goyle hopped furiously on the spot, trying to rub it out of his eyes.

"It came from over there!" said Malfoy, wiping his face, and staring at a spot somewhere to our right. Crabbe blundered forward, his long arms outstretched like a zombie. Something jabbed into his back and Crabbe did a kind of pirouette in midair, trying to see what had hit him. As Ron was the only person Crabbe could see, it was Ron he started toward, but Crabbe stumbled and his huge, flat foot caught the hem of Harry's cloak the cloak slid off his face. For a split second, Malfoy stared at him.

"AAARGH!" he yelled, pointing at Harry's head. Then he turned tail and ran, at breakneck speed, back down the hill, Crabbe and Goyle behind him. Harry tugged the cloak up again, but the damage was done.

"Harry!" Ron said, stumbling forward and staring hopelessly at the point where Harry had disappeared, "you'd better run for it! If Malfoy tells anyone - you'd better get back to the castle, quick -"

"See you later," Harry's voice called out

"So Ronnikins? Did you enjoy the little show dear Harry put on?" asked Fred strutting out from behind the tree

"Aaargh! Fred! George! West? Since when do you hang out with them?" Ron asked

"Since you, Harry, Hermione and Wolfie aren't talking. Fred and George are nice and I don't have to worry about them arguing!"

"He he, about that..." Ron awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, apparently Wolfie's words had gotten to him. We went back to Hogwarts together and Ron left to look for Harry, I spent more time with Fred and George. They were easy to get along with and funny. It seemed that sometime during our nightly talks I'd fallen asleep, I woke up to find the common room empty and George's jacket covering me. I was alone apart from Harry appearing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Where are you going?" I asked

"A walk, what are doing?" he asked

"I fell asleep, mind if I accompany you?"

"Not at all." It was cold so I shrugged George's jacket on, I could give him it when I got back and followed Harry out the door, we were staring intently at the Marauders Map, Harry seemed to be looking for something, when we spotted Snape walking towards us. Harry muttered the spell to get rid of the map and stuffed it in his pocket before we started to walk away as fast as we could.

"Well well well. What do we have here? Potter and Ride, out for a little stroll, do you have a decent reason for this?" Snape's lip curled in a smirk as he folded his arms slowly

I looked at Harry "Eh, we eh... we are out here just now because... Harry wanted to show me the view from the Astronomy Tower at night... He's said it was an amazing view." I lied quickly, Harry sent me a 'that's the best you could come up with?' look which I ignored

"Did he now? Well mr Potter should know to refrain from showing his girlfriend around te school at night especially with Sirius Black lurking around, he wouldn't want her to get hurt now would he?" I nearly vomited when Snape said the word girlfriend, I'm pretty sure Harry felt the same from the look on his face, a look Snape seemed to be ignoring.

"Yes sir, I'll remember that next time sir." Harry said

"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter," Snape said suddenly, his eyes glinting. "He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers... The resemblance between you is uncanny."

"My dad didn't strut," said Harry, before he could stop himself. "And neither do I."

"Your father didn't set much store by rules either," Snape went on, pressing his advantage, his thin face full of malice. "Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen -"

"SHUT UP!" Harry shouted taking a menacing step towards Snape.

"Harry!" I hissed grabbing hold of his arm

"What did you say to me, Potter?"

"I told you to shut up about my dad!" Harry yelled. "I know the truth, all right? He saved your life! Dumbledore told me! You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for my dad!" Snape's sallow skin had gone the color of sour milk.

"And did the headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father saved my life?" he whispered. "Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter's delicate ears?"

"Harry!" I moaned, clutching his arm silently telling him to shut up himself.

"I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you - your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts." Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared. "Turn out your pockets, Potter!" he spat suddenly. Harry didn't move. There was a pounding in his ears. "Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the headmaster! Pull them out, Potter!"

"Just do it Harry!" I told him "The sooner you do the sooner we can go back to bed." Harry nodded and slowly pulled out the bag of Zonko's tricks and the Marauder's Map. Snap picked up the Zonko's bag.

"West gave them to me," said Harry. "She -brought them back from Hogsmeade last time -"

"Indeed? And you've been carrying them around ever since? How very touching... and what is this?" Snape had picked up the map, I bit my lip.

"Spare bit of parchment," Harry said with a shrug. Snape turned it over, his eyes on Harry.

"Surely you don't need such a very old piece of parchment?" he said. "Why don't I just - throw this away?"

"No!" Harry said quickly, I mentally face palmed

"So!" said Snape, his long nostrils quivering. "Is this another treasured gift from Miss. Ride? Or is it - something else? A letter, perhaps, written in invisible ink? Or - instructions to get into Hogsmeade without passing the dementors?" Harry blinked. Snape's eyes gleamed, "Come with me." We followed Snape to his office where he closed the door and motioned for us to take a seat "Let me see, let me see..." he muttered, taking out his wand and smoothing the map out on his desk. "Reveal your secret!" he said, touching the wand to the parchment. Nothing happened.

"Show yourself!" Snape said, tapping the map sharply. It stayed blank.

"Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!" Snape said, hitting the map with his wand. As though an invisible hand were writing upon it, words appeared on the smooth surface of the map.

**Mooney presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business. **

Snape froze. Not good. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first.

**Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.**

It would have been very funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. And there was more...

**Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.**

**Miss Claw would like to add that shampoo is a great invention and should be **

**used. If not you could end up looking like Professor Snape, who would ever want **

**that?**

And then came the last one.

**dearest slime-ball King (Severus Snape), You are the big nosed parrot everybody is always running from.** **Why don't you do something with your hair or start dressing like a man? You look like a woman in a black dress and we've discussed how gay it makes you look. sincerely Hot Shot.**

"So..." said Snape softly. "We'll see about this..." He strode across to his fire, seized a fistful of glittering powder from a jar on the fireplace, and threw it into the flames.

"Lupin!" Snape called into the fire. "I want a word!" A large shape had appeared in it, revolving very fast. Seconds later, Professor Lupin was clambering out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his shabby robes.

"You called, Severus?" said Lupin mildly.

"I certainly did," said Snape, his face contorted with fury as he strode back to his desk. "I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this." Snape pointed at the parchment, on which the words of Messrs. Moony, Claw, Padfoot, Hot Shot and Prongs were still shining. An odd expression appeared on Lupin's face.

"Well?" said Snape. Lupin continued to stare at the map. I got the impression that Lupin was doing some very quick thinking. "Well?" said Snape again. "This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?" Lupin looked up

"Full of Dark Magic?" he repeated mildly. "Do you really think so, Severus? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who reads it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke shop -"

"Indeed?" said Snape. His jaw had gone rigid with anger. "You think a joke shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it directly from the manufacturers?"

"You mean, by Mr. Padfoot or one of these people?" he said. "Harry, do you know any of these men?"

"No," said Harry quickly.

"What about you West?"

"No sir." I answered

"You see, Severus?" said Lupin, turning back to Snape. "It looks like a Zonko product to me but if it worries you that much I'll have a look into it." He folded the map and tucked it inside his robes. "Harry, West, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay, excuse us, Severus."

"Professor, I -" Harry started

"I don't want to hear explanations," said Lupin shortly. He glanced around the empty entrance hall and lowered his voice. "I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr. Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it' s a map," he said as Harry and I looked amazed. "I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happened the last time a student left information about the castle lying around. And I can't let you have it back, I'm sorry." Harry had expected that, and was too keen for explanations to protest.

"Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?"

"Because...," Lupin hesitated, "because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of school. They'd think it extremely entertaining."

"Don't expect me to cover up for you again. I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to repay them - gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks." He walked away, Harry and I walked solomly back to the common room, I flopped down on my bed, completely forgetting about my intentions to give George back his jacket, leaving it on when I fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7: THE BLACK'S

WPOV

I sighed and looked out the window in the library; I wasn't taking any of the words on the page in at all. Blade had told me about what happened to her and Harry last night. Snape being insulted by the map was the least of my worries. I hadn't been sleeping at all so I was drained, my mood projected this. I had snapped at Hermione a lot, but she cut me some slack.

"I'm going to go to the common room." I told Hermione and with that I left. I reached the portrait hole. The Fat Lady had been restored and was in her rightful place; I said the password and climbed in. Ron, Blade and Harry were all sitting doing homework. I had already done mine thanks to Hermione so I was fine. I sat next to Harry, he shook his head. I still wasn't talking to Ron but Harry was fine.

"OH YEAH! I've got to go give George his jacket back!" Blade ran from the room carrying her bag behind her.

"Wolfie you looked awful." He said,

"Thanks." I muttered sarcastically. I sighed and put my head on his shoulder, I couldn't help it. My eyes closed.

_Bright lights flew past me, dead bodies surrounded me. The masked men were back, only the house had changed. Some of its walls had holes in them, family pictures hung upon the ones intact. A cold laugh rang out, a women with messy black hair stood. She was shooting spells at other men; they fell to the ground with a scream of pain. I started to walk forward, glass crunching at my feet, the scene was like something from a war movie. Alohamora ran in front of me, she was dragging an out cold Sirius Black along with her. _

"_TOMMY!" she screamed. "TOMMY HELP ME!" her voice was desperate as she looked at her husband. She lay him on the floor. "Come on, come on wake up please wake up." She was crying, she lay his head on her lap. The masked men had vanished. "TOMMY!" she called out again, she was sobbing. _

"_ALOHA! WHERE ARE YOU!" Came Tommy's voice. He ran in and saw her crying, he was at her side quickly wrapping an arm around her. _

"_We….we were fighting Bellatrix. He got hit with some sort of weird purple spell."_

"_He'll be ok, you're ok." Tommy said. Just then Sirius gave a great breath, _

"_Thank Merlin!" Alohamora exclaimed as she stroked her husband's hair. "Where did the Death Eaters go?"_

"_I don't know, I don't have a good feeling about this." As he said it wind swept around them, gusts of wind. Laughter rang out and there stood five Death eaters. The fiery pain in my head was back, everything went fuzzy. Screams. Blood. Death. Kept ringing out in my head, I put my hands to my head and screamed. "Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!" I repeated all over again. "Please don't kill them, don't kill them!" everything went black. _

I opened my eyes; I was on the floor in the common room. Ron, Harry, Blade, Iggy, Fred and George were standing over me.

"Pup, are you ok?" My head was still painfully sore, my body screamed. I was definitely not ok; I groaned and held my head. I felt someone's arms wrap around me, Iggy. "It's ok I've got you."

"Iggy, where are you taking her?" Blade's voice said.

"To the hospital wing, something is wrong with her West." I buried my head in his chest and started to sob. My head felt like it was about to explode and my body was screaming from exhaustion. "You're ok Pup, sssshhh it's ok."

"I'll get the door." Harry said. I got carried down the many corridors to the hospital wing, I was getting tunnel vision and my world went black as Madam Pomfery made me drink a potion.

-o-O-o-

When I woke up it was dark outside. I sat up on my elbows, Iggy was asleep in a seat on my right and Blade on my left.

"Iggy? Blade?" The awoke at the sound of my voice.

"How do you feel?" Iggy asked.

"Fine. How long was I asleep for?"

"You've been out for three days." Blade said, I stared open mouthed at her. "Madam Pomfery kept feeding you dreamless sleep potion so you'd sleep that long. You made your body so weak from not sleeping at night Wolfie." I didn't have time to respond before Iggy asked me another question.

"Are you still tired?"

"No, I feel great actually, so happy and cheerful." I said smiling excitedly.

"That will be the Pepper up potion going through your system." Blade mumbled.

"Well I like Pepper up potion!" I was so happy! Madam Pomfery came rushing in.

"Oh good your awake." I smiled at her. "Now I'll keep you in for observation tonight. Jeff, West I'll let you spend the night can't have you wandering back at this time of night." She scurried off, probably to make Blade and Iggy a bed.

"If you think about it your name has an unneeded f. Jef-f," Iggy glared at me, "Jef-f!"

"Wolfie."

"Am I pissing you of-f." I smiled at him,

"Damn Pepper up potion." I giggled at his misfortune.

"Ok you two bed and go to sleep Miss Weasley." I sighed and snuggled in to the covers and for the first time going to sleep without a potion I didn't have a vision.

Madam Pomfery let me out the next day, after a lot of convincing! I walked to the common room after breakfast.

"NO! I just thought you'd be interested to know that Hagrid lost the case. Buckbeak is going to be executed." Hermione yelled.

"WHAT!" I yelled. I ran from the room and onto the grounds. There I laid eyes on a horrible blonde head of hair, Malfoy. "You foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach!" I put my wand under his chin and he started to squirm. His face alive with pure terror,

"Wolfie, no it's not worth it!" Hermione yelled, I lowered my wand and Malfoy started to snigger, I threw a punch to his face. Him and his minion's ran for the hills not glancing back once.

"That felt good." I said

"Not good, bloody brilliant." Ron stated.

"Just give me a minute to permanently edge, this imagine into my mind." Blade said, her face looked like Christmas had come early.

"Hagrid." I said as I ran down the hill to his hut. I pounded on the door of his house.

"Yer early!" Hagrid's booming voice came, his door flung open he let out a great sigh. "it's only you five. Come in." We walked "I'll get us some tea." Hagrid started to pour tea into a large cup but his hand was shaking so much that it started to over flow. I placed my hand onto of his, the gesture seemed to calm him.

"We'll stay with you Hagrid." I said.

"Yeh will not!" he placed the teapot down "Think I want yeh seein somethin like that!" we spited on the tea not knowing what to do. "Oh Ron before I ferget." He opened the cupboard and brought out a cup that held a struggling, speaking, balding ran. Scabbers.

"Scabbers! You're alive."

"You should take better care if yer pets Ron."

"I think you owe someone an apology." I said,

"You're right when Crookshanks I'll let him know." Ron quipped back.

"I was talking about Hermione!" I shouted back. Our argument was stopped when a stone flew in a smashed a pot. Hermione picked it up and examined it, another one soon followed and hit Harry on the back of the head.

"OW!" he turned and looked out the window. What met our sight wasn't good. Dumbledore was walking down with the Mister of Magic, Fudge and a man with a large axe over his shoulder. I gasped,

"You lot aren't supposed tae be here, especially you Harry, what with the Black's roaming around." I grabbed Harry's arm as we ran out the door. We ran and crouched behind some pumpkins, I watched wide eyed as Hagrid let them in. I heard a twig snap and turned around, my brow frowned.

"What is it Wolfie?" Harry asked.

"I thought I saw…..never mind, let's go." We ran up the hill and stopped, turning around we faced the direction of Hagrid's hut. I bit my lip as we heard the thud of an axe; Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's neck and buried her head. I bit my lip as Harry put an arm around my shoulders; Blade looked forward rage on her face.

"OW!" Ron yelled after a couple of minutes, he dropped Scabbers to the ground. "He bit me, Scabbers?" he ran after the troublesome rat.

"Ron!" Blade shouted,

"Scabbers!" Ron called out. We chased Ron along the grounds.

"Ron!" I called out,

"Scabbers come back!" we ran until we came to an abrupt stop. Ron dived and caught his pet, he turned around to face us and his face went deadly white.

"Harry, do you know what tree this is!" Hermione yelled, I looked they'd told me about the Whomping willow, this was not good.

"Ron, move away…" But we never heard the rest of Harry's sentence.

"Harry! Behind you! It's…it's the Grim!" we turned and came face to face with a big black dog; I let of a scream as it jumped over us, growling a terrifying growl. The dog latched his teeth onto Ron's leg and started to drag him, instinct took over.

"RON!" I yelled as I reach out my hand, he tried desperately to cling to it. But the dog on his leg tugged him harder so he was out of my reach.

"Harry! Hermione! West! Wolfie! Help me!" I was crawling fast to catch up with Ron, but the dog was disappearing into the Whomping willow. Ron's foot caught on the tree root, the dog tugged harder a nasty crack was heard and Ron let out a scream of pain.

"RON!" I yelled I transformed into a Wolf and ran for the opening, the tree was coming to life and started lashing out. I heard the screams of Harry, Hermione and Blade, but it stopped as my tail hit of the tree and it became motionless once more.

"Come on!" Blade yelled as she followed me down the dark hole that Ron had been dragged through, Hermione and Harry close at her heels. I kept back as they walked ahead, keeping to the shadows is what I do when I'm on Wolf mode.

"Do you think he's ok?" Hermione voice a couple minutes later,

"I don't know, I hope so." Harry said,

"Harry this is the secret passageway the twins told us about." Blade said looking around, I continued to stealthy move forward. We kept moving and soon a light shone in front of us their pace quickened dramatically and soon we were in a room. It was drafty and dirty, there was a bed which Ron lay on and he was still clinging to Scabbers.

"Harry! He's an Animagus, it's Sirius Black!" I kept to the shadows and watched as my friends turned around sharply, looking horrified as a tine and pale man came into the clearing. His long black hair was greasy and his face hollow. His laughter was insane as he looked at them, his eyes shining.

"Stay back!" Blade yelled pointing her wand at him.

"Kitten!" he yelled mockingly. I massive white tiger came prowling out, much bigger than my wolf Animagus. She prowled around them her tail flicking in the air, they all shuffled together. I stayed back, waiting until things got really bad. Professor Lupin came in pointing his wand at Sirius, with one fluid movement he was knocked backwards.

"Oh Sirius you really have let out the madness with in." He said shaking his head. Sirius chuckled,

"You'd know about the madness within wouldn't you Remus." Professor Lupin thought and then laughed helping Black up!

"He's here, Remus he's here!"

"I know Sirius, I know." Lupin looked around and shook his head, "Call Aloha off."

"Kitten leave the kids alone, you've frightened them enough." With one last flick of her tail Alohamora transformed. The woman that I saw was so different from my visions, she was so thin. Her golden eyes once so full of mischief were now too big for her hollow face, she was broken. She stared at Lupin with anger on her face.

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "I trusted you!" she was pointing at Lupin now. "He's a werewolf! That's why he's been missing classes."

"Well, well Hermione you really are the brightest witch of your age. But please tell me how long have you known?"

"Since Professor Snape set the essay." I don't even remember that essay.

"Well we have the three of you and West, but where is Miss Weasley?" For the first time I think the four of them realized I wasn't there I started to move again, not wanting to be seen.

"Enough! Remus we have to kill him!" Sirius shouted, Alohamora was still glaring at Lupin.

"No, we wait Harry deserves to know why!"

"We did our waiting, for twelve years! In Azkaban!"

"What are you talking about, You killed my parents!" Harry shouted,

"I thought so to until recently." Lupin said

"WHAT!"

"We didn't kill anyone! Peter Pettigrew did! Come out Peter! Come out, come out and play!" But before he could do anything Snape made his grand entrance. He disarmed them in one movement.

"Well, well what do we have here? I always knew you were helping an old friend into the castle Remus."

"Oh well done, like always the great Snape has done some thinking and come up with the wrong conclusion." Alohamora shouted,

"Says the person who is a murder!"

"Now Snape please…" Lupin started,

"Stay out of this Remus!" Alohamora continued,

"Yes stay out of this you will have a cell next to your friends in Azkaban!" Snape still had his wand trained on Alohamora but that didn't stop.

"Oh why don't you do play with your chemistry set!" she quipped back.

"Oh I will after I have handed you and your husband over to the Dementors, they are so longing to meet you, they may even kiss you!" Alohamora's eyes widened with fear. "Is the great Wilde scared?" While the adults were distracted, Harry reached for Hermione's wand; he pointed it at them and bellowed,

"Expelliarmus!" The spell his Snape on the chest, he went flying back onto the bed, Ron rolled off with a scream.

"Harry!" Blade shouted,

"You attacked a teacher!" Hermione continued,

"Tell me about Peter Pettigrew." I knew all this, he was there friend.

"He was our friend at school we thought we could trust him…"

"You trusted them!" Ron yelled pointing at Alohamora and Sirius.

"Weren't you listening, we are innocent!" She shouted back,

"You betrayed Tommy," Harry shouted pointing to Alohamora "And you my parents!" Harry continued,

"No they didn't, Sirius was their seek keeper." Lupin said

"But I told James to use Peter, no one would suspect him to be a seek keeper, no one!" Sirius said back, "And I soon as the spell was done the traitor told Voldemort. I went after him; he tried to pin it on me. Kept saying I did it, the he cut off his finger and faked his own death!"

"If that's true." Hermione said, "Where is Pettigrew now?"

"He's right there." Alohamora said pointing at Ron,

"What me? You're mental!"

"Not you, your rat." Sirius said,

"Not Scabbers he's been in my family for..."

"Twelve years a usually long life for a common garden rat, and he's missing a toe like Pettigrew..."

"A finger." Harry and Blade finished. I acted fast and jumped over Ron pinning Pettigrew to the ground.

"WOLFIE!" Ron bellowed, but it was too late Sirius cast the spell and Pettigrew transformed. I went back to my human state, looking down at the rat like man in disgust. He was in the cowering on the floor.

"My friends!" He shouted and jumped up,

"We are not!" Alohamora shouted,

"Please I had to, he would have killed me!"

"And I would have died, I would have died than betray my friends!" Sirius shouted. "Together!" the three of them pointed his wand.

"Stop!" I yelled yanking at Lupin,

"Wolfie, what he's done!"

"They wouldn't want you to kill him! Take him back to the castle"

"Thank you!" He said at my feet,

"Get off me!" I said yanking my feet away, "I said we wouldn't kill you, when we get back to the castle the Dementors can have you." And just like the disgusting human being he is, he started to cry at his punishment. Lupin ceased Pettigrew by the arms, Pettigrew continued to snivel. They cast a flouting charm on Snape. Alohamora at the front of the procession as we walked out of the shrieking shack. Harry and I were carrying Ron between us he was in pain; I hoped I could heal him when we were at the end. Once out I placed Ron onto the ground, sighing I looked around at the group. Blade was looking for a way for Harry and me to drag Ron up to the castle. Hermione was talking to Ron, Harry was off to the side with Sirius talking about something and Alohamora was prodding Snape with her toe. Harry came running back to us a big smile plastered on his face, it was confusing. I was about to voice my confusion when a scream was heard. I turned a full moon was glistening in the sky, its ghostly pale light shining across the Hogwarts grounds. It would have been beautiful if it wasn't for the fact that Professor Lupin was changing. Sirius was hugging him, telling him his heart belonged here in this body. But it wasn't stopping the transformation; the first thing to change was his face. His noes moulded into a snout and he started to grow fur. His legs grew along with his arms and his back started to hunch. It reminded me so much of an Eraser, the way he held himself. His horribly sharp talon like claw and teeth were also a contributing factor. Sirius was knocked back and so was Alohamora. Harry, Blade, Hermione and I stood in front of Ron,

"POTTER!" Snape yelled, he held Harry by the arms until he saw the fear in our faces. He spread himself in front of us almost like a shield. We backed away from Lupin. Snape was thrown back,

"Wait!" Hermione shouted,

"Hermione no!" Ron yelled,

"Professor? Professor Lupin?"

"Bad idea, bad idea." Ron whispered. Lupin looked at Hermione then let out a fearsome howl; I let out a scream as he lunged for us. He never made it to us as he was attacked by a giant black dog, Sirius. I looked at Alohamora who was out cold, I didn't even think. I transformed into a wolf and started to claw at my DADA teacher. He was swiping at me and Sirius, who let out a howl. He was thrown back as Lupin advanced on me. I was in pain, he had scratched me. But because I was in wolf from I wouldn't be affected.

"HEY!" came Harry's voice, Lupin turned and advanced on my brave friend. I was about to ponce when I howl was heard. Lupin thought for a bit then ran in that direction. I became human again, I looked down to see my t-shirt ripped and stained with blood. Harry and I looked up; the world had gone cold, almost like all the happiness was gone. Great hooded figures were flying toward the lake, their horrid black cloaks blowing in the wind. "Sirius!" Harry called, he ran past me, I ran after him, I had never seen a Dementor before, Harry had told me all about them and I wasn't looking forward to facing one. Harry kneelt down beside Sirius shaking him slightly.

"Harry, look." I pointed to the army of Dementors coming toward us from the lake. The water froze as the glided weightlessly over it. As they got closer I scream got louder, it was a girl, a small child. I covered my ears. I face appeared in front of me, a middle aged man with a balding head, Dr. Hans my worst nightmare. Sirius gave a great shudder and a rotten hand grabbed my shirt, pulling me upward. The Dementor started to lower his hood. A pure black face was revealed, the screaming got worst as his mouth got lower to mine, like it was about to kiss me! I was so overrun with sorrow, like I'd never feel happiness or love again, kept appearing and I kept hearing my screaming. Suddenly a white stag appeared over the lake, the hooded monster dropped me to the ground. The stag charged and the Dementors fled. I was lying on the ground, my breathing raspy, "Harry!" I called out a hand touched mine and my world was plunged into darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Great Escape

"Pettigrew escaped! How could we let that happen?" I groaned, he'd escaped, Harry'd just woken up, Ron couldn't walk, Wolfie was still out cold and the Black's had been arrested. Again.

"Shouldn't Wolfie have woken up by now I mean Harry has and they were attacked at the same, so yeah shouldn't she have woken up I'm really worried what happens if she..." Nudge was cut off by Iggy who was glaring at her. She glared at him as Iggy looked at Wolfie with a worried expression.

"You changed the subject! Why would you do that? Wolfie will be fine, she's _Wolfie_!" I snapped

"I need to see the headmaster," Harry said getting up

"Potter," said Madam Pomfrey walking through with a bottle of medicine for Wolfie, "It's all right. They've got the Black's. They're locked away upstairs. The dementors will be performing the kiss any moment now -"

"WHAT?" Harry jumped up out of bed; Hermione had done the same. But apparently his shout had been heard in the corridor outside, Cornelius Fudge and Snape had entered the room.

"Harry, Harry, what's this?" said Fudge, looking agitated. "You should be in bed - has he had any chocolate?" he asked Madam Pomfrey anxiously.

"Minister, listen!" Harry said. "The Black's are innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the dementors do that thing to Sirius and Alohamora, they're -" But Fudge was shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

"Harry, Harry, you're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control..."

"YOU HAVEN'T!" Harry yelled. "YOUVE GOT THE WRONG PEOPLE!"

"Minister, listen, please," Hermione said; she had hurried to Harry's side "I saw him too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and -"

"You see, Minister?" said Snape. "Confunded, both of them... the Black's have done a very good job on them..."

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Harry roared.

"He's right, I saw him too! They're both innocent!" I said

"Listen Miss, you're Conf-" Fudge started

"Minister! Professor!" said Madam Pomfrey angrily. "I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!"

"I'm not distressed, I'm trying to tell them what happened!" Harry said furiously. "If they'd just listen -" But Madam Pomfrey suddenly stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harry's mouth; he choked, and she seized the opportunity to force him back onto the bed.

"Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave." The door opened again. It was Dumbledore. Harry got up again

"Professor Dumbledore, Sirius and Alohamora Black -"

"For heaven's sake!" said Madam Pomfrey hysterically. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist -"

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter, Miss Ride and Miss Granger," said Dumbledore calmly. "I have just been talking to Sirius and Alohamora Black -"

"I suppose they've told you the same fairy tale they've planted in Potter's mind?" spat Snape. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive -"

"That, indeed, is the Black's story," said Dumbledore, surveying Snape closely through his half-moon spectacles.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarled Snape. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" said Hermione earnestly. "You didn't arrive in time to hear

"Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"

"Now, Snape," said Fudge, startled, "the young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances -"

"I would like to speak to Harry, West and Hermione alone," said Dumbledore abruptly. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy - please leave us."

"Headmaster!" sputtered Madam Pomfrey. "They need treatment, they need rest -"

"This cannot wait," said Dumbledore. "I must insist." Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and strode away into her office at the end of the ward, slamming the door behind her. Fudge consulted the large gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat.

"The dementors should have arrived by now," he said. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs." He crossed to the door and held it open for Snape, but Snape hadn't moved.

"You surely don't believe a word of the Black's story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face.

"I wish to speak to Harry, West and Hermione alone," Dumbledore repeated. Snape took a step toward Dumbledore.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "And if your memory serves you as well as mine you'd do well to remember who it was that tried to talk him out of, as you put it, trying to kill you." Snape turned on his heel and marched through the door Fudge was still holding. It closed behind them, and Dumbledore turned to Harry, Hermione and I.

"Professor, the Black's are telling the truth - we saw Pettigrew- he escaped when Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf -" Harry started

"- he's a rat -" Hermione continued

"- Pettigrew's front paw, I mean, finger, he cut it off -" I added

"- Pettigrew attacked Ron, it wasn't Sirius or Alohamora -" Harry said, but Dumbledore held up his hand to stop the flood of explanations.

"It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time," he said quietly. "There is not a shred of proof to support the Black's story, except your word - and the word of a few thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Conor Lesrange has gone insane due to what he said Alohamora had done to him and there is no proof to say otherwise."

"Professor Lupin can tell you -" Harry said

"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius and Alohamora will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little - and the fact that he, Alohamora and Sirius are old friends -"

"MISTRUSTED! Why? What have they ever done! That is so steriotypical! It's not _his _fault he's a werewolf! He didn't choose to be one!" I shouted

"I am well aware of that Miss Ride."

"But -"

"Listen to me, Harry. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape's version of events is far more convincing than yours."

"He hates Sirius and Alohamora," Hermione said desperately. "All because of some stupid trick they played on him -"

"Sirius has not acted like an innocent man and neither has Alohamora. The attack on the Fat Lady, entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife, without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning the Black's sentence."

"But you believe us."

"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore quietly. "But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic... What we need," said Dumbledore slowly, "Is more time."

"But -" Hermione began. And then her eyes became very round. "OH!"

"Now, pay attention," said Dumbledore, speaking very low, and very clearly. "Sirius and Alohamora locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this: you must not be seen. Miss Granger, you know the law - you know what is at stake... You - must - not - be - seen." I was beyond confused. "I am going to lock you in. It is -" he consulted his watch, "five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

"Good luck?" Harry repeated as the door closed behind Dumbledore. "Three turns? What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do?" But Hermione was fumbling with the neck of her robes, pulling from beneath them a very long, very fine gold chain.

"Harry, West come here," she said urgently. "Quick!" we looked at each other before moving toward her, completely bewildered. She was holding the chain out, there was a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from it.

"Here -" She had thrown the chain around her neck and proceded to do the same to us

"Ready?" she said breathlessly.

"Ready for what exactly?" I asked, Hermione ignored me and turned the hourglass over three times. The dark ward dissolved. I had the sensation that he was flying very fast, backward. A blur of colors and shapes rushed past us, my ears were pounding and then suddenly I felt solid ground beneath my feet, and everything came into focus again, we were standing in the deserted entrance hall and a stream of golden sunlight was falling across the paved floor from the open front doors.

"Hermione, what -?"

"In here!" Hermione seized Harry's arm and dragged him across the hall to the door of a broom closet, me following behins; she opened it, pushed him inside among the buckets and mops, then slammed the door behind us.

"What - how - Hermione, what happened?"

"We've gone back in time," Hermione whispered "Three hours back..."

"But -"

"Shh! Listen! Someone's coming! I think - I think it might be us!" Hermione had her ear pressed against the cupboard door.

"Footsteps across the hall... yes, I think it's us going down to Hagrid's!"

"Are you telling me," Harry whispered, "that we're here in this cupboard and we're out there too?"

"Yes," said Hermione, her ear still glued to the cupboard door. "I'm sure it's us. It doesn't sound like more than five people... and we're walking slowly because we're under the Invisibility Cloak - " She broke off, still listening intently. "We've gone down the front steps..." Hermione sat down on an upturned bucket, looking desperately anxious, but Harry wanted a few questions answered.

"Where did you get that hourglass thing?"

"It's called a Time-Turner," Hermione whispered, "and I got it from Professor McGonagall on our first day back. I've been using it all year to get to all my lessons-"

"That explains so much..." I muttered

"Professor McGonagall made me swear I wouldn't tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. She had to tell them that I was a model student, and that I'd never, ever use it for anything except my studies... I've been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that's how I've been doing several lessons at once, see? But... I don't understand what Dumbledore wants us to do. Why did he tell us to go back three hours? How's that going to help Sirius and Alohamora?"

"There must be something else that happened around now he wants us to change," I said slowly.

"What happened? We were walking down to Hagrid's three hours ago..." Harry mused

"This is three hours ago, and we are walking down to Hagrid's," said Hermione. "We just heard ourselves leaving..."

"Dumbledore just said - just said we could save more than one innocent life..." I said

"We're going to save Buckbeak!" Harry burst out

"But - how will that help Alohamora and Sirius?"

"Dumbledore said - he just told us where the window is - the window of Flitwick's office! Where they've got the Black's locked up! We've got to fly Buckbeak up to the window and rescue them! They can escape on Buckbeak - they can escape together!"

"If we manage that without being seen, it'll be a miracle!" Hermione said

"She has a point Harry." I said

"Well, we've got to try, haven't we?" said Harry. He stood up and pressed his ear against the door. "Doesn't sound like anyone's there... Come on, let's go."

Harry pushed open the closet door. The entrance hall was deserted. As quietly and quickly as we could, we darted out of the closet and down the stone steps.

"If anyone's looking out of the window -" Hermione squeaked, looking up at the castle behind them.

"We'll run for it," said Harry determinedly. "Straight into the forest, all right? We'll have to hide behind a tree or something and keep a lookout -"

"Okay, but we'll go around by the greenhouses!" said Hermione breathlessly. "We need to keep out of sight of Hagrid's front door, or we'll see us! We must be nearly at Hagrid's by now!"

"That sentence sounds so weird." I muttered under my breath "We'll see us."We tore across the vegetable gardens to the greenhouses, paused for a moment behind them, then set off again, fast as we could, skirting around the Whomping Willow, tearing toward the shelter of the forest. Safe in the shadows of the trees.

"Right," Hermione gasped. "We need to sneak over to Hagrid's... Keep out of sight you two..."

We made our way silently through the trees, keeping to the very edge of the forest. Then, as we glimpsed the front of Hagrid's house, we heard a knock upon his door. We moved quickly behind a wide oak trunk and peered out from either side, my head slightly below Harry's. Hagrid had appeared in his doorway, shaking and white, looking around to see who had knocked.

"Hagrid!" Wolfie's voice cried out

"Yer early!" said Hagrid's booming voice "I'll get us some tea."

"This is the weirdest thing we've ever done," I said

"Let's move along a bit," Hermione whispered. "We need to get nearer to Buckbeak!" We crept through the trees until we saw the nervous hippogriff, tied to the fence around Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

"Now?" Harry whispered.

"No!" said Hermione. "If we steal him now, those Committee people will think Hagrid set him free! We've got to wait until they've seen he's tied outside!"

"That's going to give us about sixty seconds," said Harry. This was starting to seem impossible. At that moment, there was a crash of breaking china from inside Hagrid's cabin.

"Hagrid's going to give us Scabbers in a moment -" Hermione whispered. Sure enough, a few minutes later, we heard Ron's shout of "Scabbers! You're alive!".

"Hermione," said Harry suddenly, "what if we - we just run in there and grab Pettigrew -"

"No!" said Hermione in a terrified whisper. "Don't you understand? We're breaking one of the most important wizarding laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody! You heard Dumbledore, if we're seen -"

"We'd only be seen by ourselves and Hagrid!"

"Harry, what do you think you'd do if you saw yourself bursting into Hagrid's house?" said Hermione, I stayed silent.

"I'd - I'd think I'd gone mad," said Harry, "or I'd think there was some Dark Magic going on -"

"Exactly! You wouldn't understand, you might even attack yourself! Don't you see? Professor McGonagall told me what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time... Loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!"

"Okay!" said Harry. "It was just an idea, I just thought-"

But Hermione nudged him and pointed toward the castle. I turned my head to look and saw Dumbledore, Fudge, and Macnair the executioner were coming down the steps.

"We're about to come out!" Hermione breathed.

"We're not leaving, why aren't we leaving?" I looked at Hermione

Hermione looked down and picked something up, she threw it towards the hut and there was a loud smash, she picked another thing up and threw it at the back of Harry'ss head.

"OW!" said past Harry

"That hurt." future Harry told Hermione, she shrugged, moments later, Hagrid's back door opened, and Harry, Ron, Wolfie, past me and Hermione walked out of it. Past us ran behind a group of pumpikins that were sitting infront of us.

"Is that really what my hair looks like from the back?" Hermione questing peering around the tree, unfortunatly she snapped a twig and Wolfie spun around.

"What is it Wolfie?" Harry asked.

"I thought I saw…..never mind, let's go." They started running up the hill

"Where is the beast?" came the cold voice of Macnair.

"Out - outside," Hagrid croaked. Macnair's face appeared at Hagrid's window, staring out at Buckbeak.

"We - er - have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I'll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign it. Macnair, You're supposed to listen too, that's procedure -" Fudge said, Macnair's face vanished from the window. It was now or never.

"Wait here," Harry whispered to us. "I'll do it." As Fudge's voice started again, Harry darted out from behind his tree, vaulted the fence into the pumpkin patch, and approached Buckbeak.

Harry stared up at Buckbeak and bowed. Buckbeak sank to his knees and then stood up again. Harry began to fumble with the knot of rope tying Buckbeak to the fence.

"Come on, Buckbeak," Harry murmured, "come on, we're going to help you. Quietly... quietly... he pulled at the rope, Buckbeak didn't move "Buckbeak, move!" Harry hissed. Harry tugged harder on the rope around Buckbeak's neck. The hippogriff began to walk. They were still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid's back door. "One moment, please, Macnair," came Dumbledore's voice. "You need to sign too." Harry heaved on the rope. Buckbeak snapped his beak and walked a little faster.

"Harry, hurry!" I mouthed. He gave the rope another wrench. Buckbeak broke into a grudging trot. They had reached the trees...

"Quick! Quick!" Hermione moaned, darting out from behind her tree, seizing the rope too and adding her weight to make Buckbeak move faster. I joined them

"Stop!" Harry whispered "They might hear us!" we listened to what they were saying

"Where is it?" said Fudge. "Where is the beast?"

"It was tied here!" said the executioner furiously. "I saw it! just here!"

"How extraordinary," said Dumbledore. There was a note of amusement in his voice.

"Beaky!" said Hagrid, there was a swishing noise, and the thud of an axe. The executioner seemed to have swung it into the fence in anger. And then came the howling, and this time they could hear Hagrid's words through his sobs.

"Gone! Gone! Bless his little beak, he's gone! Musta pulled himself free! Beaky, yeh clever boy!"

"Someone untied him!" the executioner was snarling. "We should search the grounds, the forest."

"Macnair, if Buckbeak has indeed been stolen, do you really think the thief will have led him away on foot?" said Dumbledore, still sounding amused. "Search the skies, if you will... Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea. Or a large brandy."

"O' - o' course, Professor," said Hagrid, who sounded weak with happiness. "Come in, come in..."

"Now what?" whispered Harry, looking around.

"We'll have to hide in here," said Hermione, who looked very shaken. "We need to wait until they've gone back to the castle. Then we wait until it's safe to fly Buckbeak up to Sirius's window. He won't be there for another couple of hours... Oh, this is going to be difficult..." She looked nervously over her shoulder into the depths of the forest. The sun was setting now.

"We're going to have to move," said Harry, thinking hard.

"We've got to be able to see the Whomping Willow, or we won't know what's going on." I said

"Okay," said Hermione, getting a firmer grip on Buckbeak's rope. "But we've got to keep out of sight remember..." We moved around the edge of the forest until we were hidden behind a clump of trees through which we could make out the Willow.

"There's Ron!" said Harry suddenly. A dark figure was sprinting across the lawn and its shout echoed air.

"Scabbers, come back here -" and then we saw four more figures materialize out of nowhere. Then we saw Ron dive.

"There's Sirius!" said Harry. The shape of a dog had appeared behind past us.

"Looks even worse from here, doesn't it?" said Hermione, watching the dog pulling Ron into the roots. Wolfie tranceformed into a wolf and bounded after them, the tree stopped lashing out

"That was Wolfie pressing the knot," said Hermione.

"And there we go..." I muttered. "We're in." the moment they disappeared, the tree began to move again. Seconds later, they heard footsteps quite close by. Dumbledore, Macnair, Fudge, and the old Committee member were making their way up to the castle.

"Right after we'd gone down into the passage!" said Hermione. "If only Dumbledore had come with us..."

"Macnair and Fudge would've come too," I said bitterly. "I bet you anything Fudge would've told Macnair to murder Sirius on the spot..." we watched the four men climb the castle steps and disappear from view. For a few minutes the scene was deserted. Then Lupin came along

"Here comes Lupin!" said Harry as we saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps toward the Willow. We watched Lupin seize a broken branch from the ground and prod the knot on the trunk. The tree stopped fighting, and Lupin, too, disappeared into the gap in its roots.

"If he'd only grabbed the cloak," said Harry. "It's just lying there... If I just dashed out now and grabbed it, Snape'd never be able to get it and -"

"Harry, we mustn't be seen!"

"How can you stand this?" he asked Hermione fiercely. "Just standing here and watching it happen?" He hesitated. "I'm going to grab the cloak!"

"Harry, no!" I grabbed the back of Harry's t-shirt as we heard a burst of song. It was Hagrid, making his way up to the castle, singing at the top of his voice, and weaving slightly as he walked. A large bottle was swinging from his hands.

"See?" Hermione whispered. "See what would have happened? We've got to keep out of sight" We watched Hagrid walk tipsily up to the castle. Barely two minutes later, the castle doors flew open yet again, and Snape came charging out of them, running toward the Willow, looking around he grabbed the cloak and held it up.

"Get your filthy hands off it," Harry snarled under his breath.

"Shh!" I said to him, Snape seized the branch Lupin had used to freeze the tree, prodded the knot, and vanished from view as he put on the cloak.

"So that's it," said Hermione quietly. "We're all down there... and now we've just got to wait until we come back up again..." She took the end of Buckbeak's rope and tied it securely around the nearest tree, then sat down on the dry ground, arms around her knees. "There's something I don't understand... Why didn't the dementors get Sirius? There were so many of them..." Harry and I sat down too. He explained what he'd seen; how, as the nearest dementor had lowered its mouth to Wolfie's, a large silver thing had come galloping across the lake and forced the dementors to retreat.

"But what was it?" I asked

"There's only one thing it could have been, to make the dementors go," said Harry. "A real Patronus. A powerful one."

"But who conjured it?" Harry didn't say anything. He was thinking back to the person he'd seen on the other bank of the lake. He knew who he thought it had been... but how could it have been?

"Didn't you see what they looked like?" said Hermione eagerly. "Was it one of the teachers?"

"No," said Harry. "He wasn't a teacher."

"But it must have been a really powerful wizard, to drive all those dementors away... If the Patronus was shining so brightly, didn't it light him up? Couldn't you see -?"

"Yeah, I saw him," said Harry slowly. "But... maybe I imagined it... I wasn't thinking straight... I passed out right afterward..."

"Who did you think it was?" I pressed

"I think," Harry swallowed "I think it was my dad." Harry glanced up at Hermione and I.

"Harry, your dad's - well - dead," she said quietly.

"I know that," said Harry quickly.

"You think you saw his ghost?" I asked

"I don't know... no... he looked solid..."

"But then..."

"Maybe I was seeing things," said Harry. "But... from what I could see... it looked like him... I've got photos of him..." Hermione was slooking at him as though worried about his sanity. I was pretty sure my face was the same

"I know it sounds crazy," said Harry flatly. He turned to took at Buckbeak, who was digging his beak into the ground, apparently searching for worms. We sat for a while longer.

"Here we come!" Hermione whispered. We got to our feet and Buckbeak raised his head. We saw Lupin and Pettigrew walk out, then Hermione, Ron and me then the Black's then Wolfie and Harry. They all began to walk toward the castle. The moon slid out from behind its cloud. They saw the tiny figures across the grounds stop.

"There goes Lupin," Hermione whispered. "He's transforming

"Hermione, Harry!" I said urgently "We've got to move!"

"We mustn't, I keep telling you -"

"Not to interfere! Lupin's going to run into the forest, right at us!"

"Quick!" Harry said, dashing to untie Buckbeak. "Quick! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide? The dementors will be coming any moment -"

"Back to Hagrid's!" Hermione said. "It's empty now - come on!" We ran as fast as we could, Buckbeak cantering along behind us. The hut was in sight; Harry skidded to the door, wrenched it open and we rushed inside, Fang the dog started to bark.

"Shh, Fang, it's us!" said Hermione, hurrying over and scratching his ears to quieten him. "That was really close!"

"Yeah..." Harry was looking out of the window. "I think I'd better go outside again, you know," said Harry slowly. "I can't see what's going on or we won't know when it's time."

"Well... okay, then... I'll wait here with Buckbeak... but Harry, be careful - there's a werewolf out there - and the dementors." Hermione said

"Wait, Harry! I'll go with you." I said running over to him

"West-"

"I'm going with you. End of." I grabbed his hand and opened the door, there was no one in sight to I pulled Harry out and closed the door. We edged around the hut, I could hear yelping in the distance. That meant the dementors were closing in on Sirius... Wolfie and Harry would be running to him any moment... Harry stared out toward the lake and there were the dementors. They were emerging out of the darkness from every direction, gliding around the edges of the lake,Harry began to run.

"Harry!" I called out running after him

The lake was coming nearer and nearer, but there was no sign of anybody. There was a bush at the very edge of the water. Harry threw himself behind it, peering desperately through the leaves. As I ran up to the bush Harry pulled me down next to him.

"Any minute now, he'll come, he'll save us." He muttered "Come on! Where are you? Dad, come on!" But no one came. Harry raised his head to look at the circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his wand.

"Harry!" I screeched

"EXPECTO PATRONUM! "he yelled and out of the end of his wand burst a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. It looked like a horse. It was galloping silently away from him, across the black surface of the lake. He saw it lower its head and charge at the swarming dementors... Now it was galloping around and around the black shapes on the ground, and the dementors were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness... They were gone. The Patronus turned. It was cantering back toward Harry across the still surface of the water. It wasn't a horse. It wasn't a unicorn, either. It was a stag.

I got up and stood next to him, I put my hand on his shoulder but then we heard hooves behind us, we whirled around and saw Hermione dashing toward us, dragging Buckbeak behind her.

"What did you do?" she said fiercely. "You said you were only going to keep a lookout!"

"I just saved Wolfie's, Sirius' and my life...," said Harry. "Get behind here - behind this bush - I'll explain." Hermione listened to what had just happened with her mouth open yet again.

"Did anyone see you?"

"Yes, haven't you been listening? I saw me but I thought I was my dad! It's okay!"

"Harry, I can't believe it... You conjured up a Patronus that drove away all those dementors! That's very, very advanced magic.

"I knew I could do it this time," said Harry, "because I'd already done it... Does that make sense?"

"Not really no." I said

"I don't know - Harry, look at Snape!" Hermione pointed across the lake. Snape had regained consciousness. He was conjuring stretchers and lifting the limp forms of Harry, Wolfie, Sirius and Alohamora, who'd been knocked out by Lupin, onto them. A fourth stretcher, no doubt bearing Ron, was already floating at his side. Then, wand held out in front of him, he moved them away toward the castle.

"Right, it's nearly time," said Hermione tensely, looking at her watch. "We've got about forty-five minutes until Dumbledore locks the door to the hospital wing. We've got to rescue Alohamora and Sirius and get back into the ward before anybody realizes we're missing..." We waited.

"D' you reckon they're up there yet?" said Harry, checking his watch after a while. He looked up at the castle and began counting the windows to the right of the West Tower.

"Look!" Hermione whispered. "Who's that? Someone's coming back out of the castle!" Harry stared through the darkness. There was a man was hurrying across the grounds, toward one of the entrances. Something shiny glinted in his belt.

"Macnair!" said Harry. "The executioner! He's gone to get the dementors! This is it!" Harry climbed up onto Buckbeak's back and held out his hand for me, now if they knew about my wings he wouldn't have to do that but the didn't so I grabbed his hand and clambered up with Hermione close behind me.

"Ready?" he whispered. "You'd better hold on to me, " I grabbed Harry's waist and Hermione gripped my shoulders tightly, Harry nudged Buckbeak's sides with his heels.

Buckbeak soared straight into the dark air. Harry urged Buckbeak forward. We were gliding quietly toward the upper floors of the castle... Harry pulled hard on the left-hand side of the rope, and Buckbeak turned.

"Whoa!" he said, pulling backward as hard as he could. Buckbeak slowed down and we came to a stop (Well sort of, we were still hovering up and down in mid air).

"He's there!" Harry said, spotting Sirius and Alohamora. The Black's looked up. Sirius leapt from his chair, hurried to the window and tried to open it, but it was locked.

"Stand back!" Hermione called to him, and she took out her wand, one hand still gripping my shoulder.

"Alohomora!" The window sprang open.

"Well that's ironic." Alohamora said

"Get on - there's not much time," said Harry, gripping Buckbeak firmly on either side of his sleek neck to hold him steady. "You've got to get out of here -the dementors are coming - Macnair's gone to get them."

Sirius placed a hand on either side of the window frame and heaved his head and shoulders out of it. It was very lucky he was so thin. In seconds, he had managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak's back and pull himself onto the hippogriff behind Hermione, Alohamora behind him, although she was practicaly falling off and if she let go of her husband it would be a long drop for her.

"Okay, Buckbeak, up!" said Harry "Up to the tower - come on." Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements, and Harry, Hermione and I slid off him at once.

"Sirius, Alohamora, you'd better go, quick," Harry panted. "They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you're gone."

"Please, call me Aloha." Aloha said

"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" croaked Sirius.

"He's going to be okay. He's still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick - go -"

"How can I ever thank -"

"GO!" I shouted. Buckbeak wheeled around, facing the open sky.

"We'll see each other again," Sirius said. "You are - truly your father's son, Harry..."

He squeezed Buckbeak's sides with his heels. The hippogriff took off into the air... The three of them became smaller and smaller as Harry, Hermione and I gazed after them... then a cloud drifted across the moon... They were gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ok a warning coming up, this is one long chapter it is 27k+ in words so, yeah it took ages to write. I hope you like it though, please, please, please R&R C:**

CHAPTER NINE: WORLD CUP

WPOV

We arrived at the Weasley household or as they call it the Burrow. It was a fantastic house, not a straight line in sight. It was slanted on the hill top and I stared open mouthed at it.

"Here we are home, sweet home." Said Mr Weasley, Angel giggled as she clutched my hand. I'd never had a home before, it felt weird to think of it that way. Mrs Weasley led us through the house and I stopped at a clock. Unlike any normal clock this one didn't tell the time, instead its hands had pictures on them. Pictures of everyone in the Weasley family, me and the flock, everybody was currently at home. The house was amazing it felt so safe, so friendly and warm.

"Nick you'll be sharing with Ron, Jeff you have your own room as I was warned about you and Gazzy, Nudge you will be sharing with Ginny and Wolfie and Blade you'll be sharing a room." She led Blade and I up the stairs. Our room was the very last one across from the twins, when she opened the door I gasped someone had clearly asked around to see what Blade and I liked. The wall opposite the door was just a massive window, the rest of the walls were black. On the left side as a blood red bed and on the right side was an ocean blue one. The floor was wooden and has a round Gryffindor rug was in the middle of the room. We also had a desk that had pencils and papers on it. There were to wardrobes one red and one blue.

"I call the red bed!" Said Blade as she ran and jumped onto the bed in question "Comfy!" she exclaimed as she curled up into a ball.

"And they call me weird." I said rolling my eyes at her. She just stuck out her tong "Real mature." She smirked. Mrs Weasley chuckled and left us to our unpacking. After we had unpacked (Getting Blade out that bed was some work out.) The twins came and got us, they wanted to play quidditch. After they had divided the teams I went and sat on the grass with the sketch book I had brought. It turns out I am a pretty good artist, so with my pencil in had I began to draw the face that had shown up in my dreams so often. I drew him young first, he was laughing along with a young Sirius black and I liked how carefree he looked. Then I drew one of him, Remus, Alohamora and James. They were all crowded around The Marauders map looking for a way to torment Snape. Next was one of Tommy face palming as Sirius declared a plastic spider dead and continued to say that plastic never listens. He got older now, his face more worried as he stood in front of one of his twin sisters, there was one of him shouting at Alohamora and the one that broke my heart most was the one of him with tears running down his face, he looked so different in that picture, he looked so broken. Their game finished and I quickly closed the sketch book and hid it again. I didn't even want Blade to see it, I felt like I had drawn a personal moment for Tommy and I didn't want to post it around. Ron, Ginny, Nudge, Iggy and Fred were laughing at George who had Blade over his should, she was pounding him on the back shouting some very colourful names at him. I started to laugh and Iggy saw,

"Stay back you mad Pyro, I am warning you!" I yelled at him, he didn't listen to my warning and started to advance on me. I squealed and ran for it, Iggy close at my heals. I could still hear Blade calling George some bad names as I ran further from the group. Iggy was much faster than me and he caught up with me in no time he grabbed me around my waist and hoisted me up onto his shoulder. "IGGY PUT ME DOWN!" I screamed at him, he just laughed.

"No can do Pup, now you know how Blade feels." He ran over to the group again, Blade had been placed back on the ground and was now laughing at my own misfortune; I stuck my tong out at her.

"Now who's the mature one?" She mumbled.

-o-O-o-

I love the Burrow; it is the best house in the history of houses. Everybody was talking about going to the Quidditch World Cup, Angel was so excited that she was allowed to go that all you heard was Quidditch moves coming out of her mouth, Nudge on the other had was more interested in the players, especially Viktor Krum. Blade would talk about in insistently as well, she loved chasers and I think it was the speed. Hell she would keep telling me Quidditch history, like who invented the Quaffle. I was so sick of Quidditch and the world cup and I haven't even been to the thing yet, Iggy found this amusing. When he told the twins they insisted to try and get me on one of those death traps that some may call a broom. I point blank refused and went back to my sketching; the book was full of Tommy. It showed you a drastic change in him; he'd gone from the carefree teenager to an anti-social adult in less than fifty pages. So I started to draw key moments, one was when he was sorted. I had made the hats face looked like it was in pain and Tommy had a smirk plastered on his face as if causing the hat pain is what he had set out to do that day. The next was one of him with a girl, she was Lily. I had drawn her clinging to his arm her face dangerously close, Tommy's face now showed panic and he looked to be pleading with someone behind Lily, that someone was Alohamora who was laughing her head off at her friends misfortune. I laughed out loud as I looked at the picture, giggling at the look of horror on Tommy's face.

"What's so funny?" I slammed the book shut as I looked up at Iggy; he was leaning casually against the doorframe an eyebrow raised.

"Nothing, just something I remembered." He looked at the book in my hand and then my pencil.

"Where'd you get that?" Truth was I'd found the sketch book in my bedroom.

"I found it." I didn't know why he was giving me the twenty question approach.

"Let's see it then,"

"NO!" I yelled as I leapt up and put the book behind my back. Iggy took a step closer to me,

"Why no?"

"It is private, like a diary. I don't want you to touch it." I know I sounded weird but he'd think I was mental if he laid eyes on my sketches.

"You know what happened to Ginny when her Diary talked to her?"

"Yes and this isn't a diary nor does it talk." He sighed and left. I knew he'd tell Blade to keep an eye on me with it now. So I lifted a floor board up from under my bed and set the book there no one would find it.

"Kids dinner!" Mrs Weasley called. I heard the thunder of footsteps as I left my bedroom, I sighed. I walked into the kitchen and sat next to Angel. We all tucked in,

"Mummy, can you pass the peas please?" Angel asked. It was a shock when we first heard Angel call Mrs Weasley Mummy and Mr Weasley Daddy, but I suppose they are. They're the only parents Angel has ever had.

After dinner Blade and I walked up to our bedroom, I stretched out on my comfy bed and lay down. I hadn't slept yet even though we'd been here for three days. I was scared in case I'd have another vision. Blade was rabbiting on about something to do with Quidditch, I closed my eyes and drifted off.

"_Tommy! Stay back! Conor has gone mental!" Aloha's panicked rang out. I looked at the scene in front of me in utter horror. There was Aloha tied up, she was struggling to free herself from her binds. There stood a man with brown hair and blue eyes he was extremely tall. _

"_Shut up!" He yelled as he slapped Aloha across the cheek. She let out a startled shriek, and Conor straddled her. "First Tommy will get in sight and I'll let him watch as I kill you slowly and painfully." _

"_GET OFF ME!" She screamed, _

"_I said shut it!" Conor yelled slapping her hard again. _

"_Get your filthy hands off her!" Tommy boomed as he came into sight; his face was the picture of rage. I was shocked that steam wasn't coming out his ears, even though I knew he couldn't see me I took a step back. _

"_Oh look you've come to save Black, how predictable." Conor sniggered. Aloha was still struggling under him. "Where is your husband, he gone to check on Potter? Pettigrew was real helpful he was." "Conor what the hell happened to you?" Aloha struggled more. Conor whacked her head off the ground and Tommy lost it. He lunged at him and started to punch him hard. "I told you not to touch her!" Conor shot a spell at Tommy that sent him flying back. He landed on the ground with a thud. _

"_Did you really think you could defeat me? I will always win and you can't do anything about it as I kill your friend." Tommy reacted quickly he pulled out his wand. _

"_Expelliarmus!" He yelled, _

"_Protego!" a battle between the brothers started. Alohamora was coming around; she held her head in pain. Conor shot some weird purple spell at her,_

"_Stupify!" _

"_SECTUMSEPMRA!" The spell hit Tommy in the stomach and he fell back in pain. Muggles screamed as Conor killed them and Aurors started to move in. Conor started to mumble incoherent words. "Twins poor twins, Lucy!" Tommy stood up shakily, holding his side and grinding his teeth in pain he started to walk away, leaving a trail of blood. He glanced at Aloha and stumbled away. _

"_NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ALOHA! TOMMY COME BACK!" I ran after him and a brutal pain hit the back of my head. I fell to the ground, "You can't leave her! You can't! She'll go to Azkaban!" My vision blurred and the last thing I saw was Tommy's retreating back as he left his best friend out cold and to be taken to Azkaban. _

"WOLFIE!" Blade screamed shaking me slightly. It took me a while to figure out where I was, I looked up at Blade's worried face. My eyebrows knitted together as I looked around the room,

"Blade?" She sighed and looked up above my head; I turned and saw Iggy standing there.

"What the hell happened? You started shouting on a guy called Tommy saying he couldn't leave Aloha." Iggy's eyes had worry in them, I hated starting at them.

"Wolfie, what happened?" So I told them about everything I saw, Blade filling in Iggy about my visions.

"So he just left her there and saved his own butt?" Iggy said angrily, I bit my lip and nodded. "The git!" after Iggy and Blade bashed Tommy for a bit they left to go play a game down stairs. I opted to stay behind. I went under my bed and pulled up the floor board, I added a new Tommy in. This one was of him glancing back at Aloha, he was clutching his stomach. That was the worst picture of him I had ever drawn, it was not that it was drawn badly. It was what it portrayed, it was him abandoning Aloha. I slammed the book shut and placed it back under my floor board, it was out of sight of, it was out of mind.

-o-O-o-

"Ouch! Fred, no - go back, go back, there's been some kind of mistake - tell George not to - OUCH! George, no, there's no room, go back quickly and tell Ron-" said Mr Weasley. Our plan to pick up Harry hadn't gone as planned. I was currently on Iggy's shoulders, Blade had landed on George's. "Maybe Harry can hear us, Dad - maybe he'll be able to let us out-" Fred suggested, I started to bang my fists against the wall.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear us?" I yelled at the top of my voice.

"What is this?" I heard a man growl. "What's going on?"

"They - they've tried to get here by Floo powder," said Harry, it sounded like he was trying hard not to laugh at us. "They can travel by fire - only you've blocked the fireplace - hang on -"

"Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?"

The hammering stopped and Blade hissed, "Shh!"

"Mr. Weasley, it's Harry ... the fireplace has been blocked up. You won't be able to get through there."

"Damn!" said Mr. Weasley's. "What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?"

"They've got an electric fire," Harry explained.

"Really?" said Mr. Weasley's excitedly. "Eclectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that... Let's think ... ouch, Ron!"

Ron's now joined us.

"What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?"

"Oh no, Ron," came Fred's voice, very sarcastically. "No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."

"Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here," said George, whose voice sounded muffled, as though he was squashed against the wall.

"Boys, boys. . ." said Mr. Weasley vaguely. "I'm trying to think what to do... Yes ...only way. . . Stand back, Harry."

"Wait a moment!" The man from before bellowed at the fire. "What exactly are you going to -"

BANG.

The electric fire shot across the room as the boarded-up fireplace burst outward, expelling Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Ron, Blade and I in a cloud of rubble and loose chippings.

Harry's Aunt Petunia shrieked and fell backward over the coffee table; his Uncle Vernon caught her before she hit the floor, and gaped, speechless, at us.

"That's better," panted Mr. Weasley, brushing dust from his long green robes and straightening his glasses. "Ah - you must be Harry's aunt and uncle!"

Tall, thin, and balding, he moved toward Uncle Vernon, his hand outstretched, but Uncle Vernon backed away several paces, dragging Aunt Petunia. Words utterly failed Uncle Vernon. His best suit was covered in white dust, which had settled in his hair and moustache and made him look as though he had just aged thirty years.

"Er - yes - sorry about that," said Mr. Weasley, lowering his hand and looking over his shoulder at the blasted fireplace. "It's all my fault. It just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see - just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren't supposed to be connected, strictly speaking - but I've got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don't worry. I'll light a fire to send the boys back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate."

I was ready to bet that the Dursleys hadn't understood a single word of this. They were still gaping at Mr. Weasley, thunderstruck. Aunt Petunia staggered upright again and hid behind Uncle Vernon.

"Hello, Harry!" said Mr. Weasley brightly. "Got your trunk ready?"

"It's upstairs," said Harry, grinning back.

"We'll get it," said Fred at once. Winking at Harry, he and George left the room. They knew where Harry's bedroom was, having once rescued him from it in the dead of night.

I suspected that Fred and George were hoping for a glimpse of Dudley; they had heard a lot about him from Harry.

"Well," said Mr. Weasley, swinging his arms slightly, while he tried to find words to break the very nasty silence. "Very - erm - very nice place you've got here."

As living room was now covered in dust and bits of brick, this remark didn't go down too well with the Dursley's. Uncle Vernon's face purpled once more, and Aunt Petunia started chewing her tongue again. However, they seemed too scared to actually say anything.

Mr. Weasley was looking around. He loved everything to do with Muggles. I could see him itching to go and examine the television and the video recorder.

"They run off eckeltricity, do they?" he said knowledgeably. "Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs," he added to Uncle Vernon. "And batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries. My wife thinks I'm mad, but there you are."

Uncle Vernon clearly thought Mr. Weasley was mad too. He moved ever so slightly to the right, screening Aunt Petunia from view, as though he thought Mr. Weasley might suddenly run at them and attack.

Dudley suddenly reappeared in the room. I could hear the clunk of his trunk on the stairs, and knew that the sounds had scared Dudley out of the kitchen. Dudley edged along the wall, gazing at Mr. Weasley with terrified eyes, and attempted to conceal himself behind his mother and father. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon's bulk, while sufficient to hide bony Aunt Petunia, was nowhere near enough to conceal Dudley.

"Ah, this is your cousin, is it, Harry?" said Mr. Weasley, taking another brave stab at making conversation.

"Yep," said Harry, "that's Dudley."

Blade, Harry, Ron and I exchanged glances and then quickly looked away from each other; the temptation to burst out laughing was almost overwhelming. Dudley was still clutching his bottom as though afraid it might fall off. Mr. Weasley, however, seemed genuinely concerned at Dudley's peculiar behaviour. Indeed, from the tone of his voice when he next spoke, Harry was quite sure that Mr. Weasley thought Dudley was quite as mad as the Dursley's thought he was, except that Mr. Weasley felt sympathy rather than fear.

"Having a good holiday, Dudley?" he said kindly.

Dudley whimpered.I saw his hands tighten still harder over his massive backside. I couldn't help it I let out a laugh but turned it into a cough as Mr. Weasley sent a glare my way.

Fred and George came back into the room carrying Harry's school trunk. They glanced around as they entered and spotted Dudley. Their faces cracked into identical evil grins.

"Ah, right," said Mr. Weasley. "Better get cracking then."

He pushed up the sleeves of his robes and took out his wand. Harry saw the Dursley's draw back against the wall as one.

"Incendio!" said Mr. Weasley, pointing his wand at the hole in the wall behind him.

Flames rose at once in the fireplace, crackling merrily as though they had been burning for hours. Mr. Weasley took a small drawstring bag from his pocket, untied it, took a pinch of the powder inside, and threw it onto the flames, which turned emerald green and roared higher than ever.

"Off you go then, Fred," said Mr. Weasley.

"Coming," said Fred. "Oh no - hang on -"

A bag of sweets had spilled out of Fred's pocket and the contents were now rolling in every direction - big, fat toffees in brightly coloured wrappers.

Fred scrambled around, cramming them back into his pocket, then gave the Dursley's a cheery wave, stepped forward, and walked right into the fire, saying "the Burrow!" Aunt Petunia gave a little shuddering gasp. There was a whooshing sound, and Fred vanished.

"Right then, George," said Mr. Weasley, "you and the trunk."

Harry helped George carry the trunk forward into the flames and turn it onto its end so that he could hold it better. Then, with a second whoosh, George had cried "the Burrow!" and vanished too.

"Ron, you next," said Mr. Weasley.

"See you," said Ron brightly to the Dursleys. He grinned broadly at Harry, then stepped into the fire, shouted "the Burrow!" and disappeared.

"West, come on Molly will be worrying."

"The Burrow!" Now Harry, me and Mr. Weasley alone remained.

"Well . . . 'bye then," Harry said to the Dursley's. They didn't say anything at all. Harry moved toward the fire, but just as he reached the edge of the hearth, Mr. Weasley put out a hand and held him back. He was looking at the Dursleys in amazement.

"Harry said good-bye to you," he said. "Didn't you hear him?"

"It doesn't matter," Harry muttered to Mr. Weasley. "Honestly, I don't care."

Mr. Weasley did not remove his hand from Harry's shoulder.

"You aren't going to see your nephew till next summer," he said to Uncle Vernon in mild indignation. "Surely you're going to say good-bye?"

Uncle Vernon's face worked furiously. The idea of being taught consideration by a man who had just blasted away half his living room wall seemed to be causing him intense suffering. But Mr. Weasley's wand was still in his hand, and Uncle Vernon's tiny eyes darted to it once, before he said, very resentfully, "Good-bye, then."

"See you," said Harry, putting one foot forward into the green flames, which felt pleasantly like warm breath. At that moment, however, a horrible gagging sound erupted behind him, and Aunt Petunia started to scream.

I wheeled around. Dudley was no longer standing behind his parents. He was kneeling beside the coffee table, and he was gagging and sputtering on a foot-long, purple, slimy thing that was protruding from his mouth. One bewildered second later, I realized that the foot-long thing was Dudley's tongue - and that a brightly coloured toffee wrapper lay on the floor before him.

Aunt Petunia hurled herself onto the ground beside Dudley, seized the end of his swollen tongue, and attempted to wrench it out of his mouth; unsurprisingly, Dudley yelled and sputtered worse than ever, trying to fight her off. Uncle Vernon was bellowing and waving his arms around, and Mr. Weasley had to shout to make himself heard.

"Not to worry, I can sort him out!" he yelled, advancing on Dudley with his wand outstretched, but Aunt Petunia screamed worse than ever and threw herself on top of Dudley, shielding him from Mr. Weasley.

"No, really!" said Mr. Weasley desperately. "It's a simple process it was the toffee -my son Fred - real practical joker - but it's only an Engorgement Charm - at least, I think it is - please, I can correct it -" But far from being reassured, the Dursley's became more panic- stricken; Aunt Petunia was sobbing hysterically, tugging Dudley's tongue as though determined to rip it out; Dudley appeared to be suffocating under the combined pressure of his mother and his tongue; and Uncle Vernon, who had lost control completely, seized a china figure from on top of the sideboard and threw it very hard at Mr. Weasley, who ducked, causing the ornament to shatter in the blasted fireplace.

"Now really!" said Mr. Weasley angrily, brandishing his wand. "I'm trying to help!"

Bellowing like a wounded hippo, Uncle Vernon snatched up another ornament.

"Harry, Wolfie, go! Just go!" Mr. Weasley shouted his wand on Uncle Vernon. "I'll sort this out!"

Harry and I didn't want to miss the fun, but Uncle Vernon's second ornament narrowly missed Harry's left ear, and on balance I thought it best to leave the situation to Mr. Weasley. We stepped into the fire, looking over Harry looking over his shoulder as he said "the Burrow!" With last fleeting glimpse of the living room was of Mr. Weasley blasting a third ornament out of Uncle Vernon's hand with his wand, Aunt Petunia screaming and lying on top of Dudley, and Dudley's tongue lolling around like a great slimy python. But the next moment I had begun to spin very fast, and the Dursleys' living room was whipped out of sight in a rush of emerald-green flames.

I landed on Harry who had fallen on the floor, we were both laughing hysterically. Angel came skipping into the room her mouth fell open at the sight of Harry. Angel has been obsessed with him, she read every book she could find on the Boy-Who-Lived. It was really annoying when she started to sprout random facts about him,

"You're-you're-you're Harry Potter!" She squealed, I don't know why she was surprised she knew we were going to get him.

"Hello." Harry said back look at me confused.

"I'm Angel; Daddy went to go get you. Where is Daddy, Wolfie?" Then it hit me,

"Fred! Fred!" I screamed up the stairs. Blade, George and Fred came running down the stairs.

"What is it?" Fred asked.

"That was bloody brilliant; Dudley's tongue was hug when Mr. Weasley told us to leave." Harry and I were laughing so hard we had to lean on each other for support.

"It worked! George it worked!" The twins high fived each other,

"What worked?" asked Nudge coming in from the kitchen, the twins grinned

"The Ton-Tongue Toffee I accidentally dropped." Fred stated. Blade looked like she was about to question him further when the fire ignited.

"FRED WEASLEY WHAT DID YOU DO TO THAT POOR MUGGLE!"

"Ton-Tongue Toffee dad." Fred grinned,

"How big did his tongue get dad?" George asked,

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it." Mr. Weasley said, the twins laughed hard. "Oh you may laugh now boys but wait until I tell your mother." All laughter stopped as the twins stared bugged eyed at their father, Angel had the same expression.

"Daddy you wouldn't! Fred and George were only having some fun, Mummy will kill them."

"Yeah dad she'll kill us." The twins said.

"I am telling your mother and that is that."

"Tell me what Arthur?" By the look on Mr. Weasley's face he never was going to tell Mrs. Weasley. There was a silence, while Mr. Weasley eyed his wife nervously. Then two girls appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Mrs. Weasley. One, with very bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth, was our best friend, Hermione Granger. The other, who was small and red-haired, was Ron's younger sister, Ginny. Both of them smiled at Harry, who grinned back, which made Ginny go scarlet - she had been very taken with Harry ever since his first visit to the Burrow, or so I had been told.

"Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

"It's nothing, Molly," mumbled Mr. Weasley, "Fred and George just - but I've had words with them -"

"What have they done this time?" said Mrs. Weasley. "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes -"

"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" said Hermione from the doorway.

"He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron, "in my room, he slept there last -"

"We can all go," said Hermione pointedly.

"Oh," said Ron, cottoning on. "Right."

"Yeah, we'll come too," said George.

"You stay where you are!" snarled Mrs. Weasley. We edged out of the kitchen, and they, Hermione, and Ginny set off along the narrow hallway and up the rickety staircase that zigzagged through the house to the upper stories.

"What are Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked as they climbed.

Ron, Ginny and Blade laughed, although Hermione didn't. I grinned at him,

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," said Ron quietly. "Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant; I never knew they'd been inventing all that . . ."

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things," said Ginny. "We thought they just liked the noise."

"Only, most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous," I said, "and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Molly went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms... She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected." O.W.L.s where, Ordinary Wizarding Levels, the examinations Hogwarts students took at the age of fifteen.

"And then there was this big row," Blade said, "because Molly wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Arthur, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop."

Just then a door on the second landing opened, and a face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.

"Hi, Percy," said Harry.

"Oh hello, Harry," said Percy. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

"We're not thundering, "Said Ron irritably "We're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic."

"What are you working on?" said Harry.

"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," said Percy smugly. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three per cent a year -"

"That'll change the world, that report will," I said. "Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks."

Percy went slightly pink.

"You might sneer, Wolfie," he said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger -"

"Yeah, yeah, all right," said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. As Harry, Hermione, Blade and I followed Ron up three more flights of stairs, shouts from the kitchen below echoed up to them. It sounded as though Mr. Weasley had told Mrs. Weasley about the toffees.

The room at the top of the house where Ron slept looked much as it had the last time that I saw it: the same posters of Ron's favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, were whirling and waving on the walls and sloping ceiling, and the fish tank on the windowsill, which had previously held frog spawn, now contained one extremely large frog. Ron's old rat, Scabbers, was here no more, but instead there was the tiny gray owl that had delivered Ron's letter to Harry in Privet Drive. It was hopping up and down in a small cage and twittering madly.

"Shut up, Pig," said Ron, "Fred and George are in Iggy's room, because Bill and Charlie are in their room," he told Harry. "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work."

"Er - why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked Ron.

"Because he's being stupid," said Ginny, "Its proper name is Pigwidgeon."

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all," said Ron sarcastically. "Ginny and Nudge named him," he explained to Harry. "They reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that." Pigwidgeon zoomed happily around his cage, hooting shrilly. I knew Ron too well to take him seriously. He had moaned continually about his old rat, Scabbers, but had been most upset when Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, appeared to have eaten him.

"Where's Crookshanks?" Harry asked Hermione now.

"Out in the garden, I expect," she said. "He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before."

"Percy's enjoying work, then?" said Harry, sitting down on one of the beds and watching the Chudley Cannons zooming in and out of the posters on the ceiling.

"Enjoying it?" said Ron darkly. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him.

"He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch ... as I was saying to Mr. Crouch ... Mr. Crouch is of the opinion ... Mr. Crouch was telling me ... They'll be announcing their engagement any day now." I said

"Have you had a good summer, Harry?" said Hermione. "Did you get our food parcels and everything?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot," said Harry. "They saved my life, those cakes."

"And have you heard from -?" Ron began, but at a look from Hermione he fell silent.

I knew Ron had been about to ask about Sirius. We had been so deeply involved in helping Sirius escape from the Ministry of Magic that they were almost as concerned about Harry's godfather as he was. However, discussing him in front of Ginny was a bad idea. Nobody but Hermione, Ron, Harry, Blade, me and Professor Dumbledore knew about how Sirius had escaped, or believed in his innocence.

"I think they've stopped arguing," said Hermione, to cover the awkward moment, because Ginny was looking curiously from Ron to Harry. "Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?"

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. We left Ron's room and went back downstairs to find Mrs. Weasley alone in the kitchen, looking extremely bad-tempered.

"We're eating out in the garden," she said when they came in. "There's just not room for seventeen people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two," she said to Ron and Harry, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling.

"Oh for heaven's sake," she snapped, now directing her wand at a dustpan, which hopped off the sideboard and started skating across the floor, scooping up the potatoes. "Those two!" she burst out savagely, now pulling pots and pans out of a cupboard, and I knew she meant Fred and George. "I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't. No ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as they possibly can..." Mrs. Weasley slammed a large copper saucepan down on the kitchen table and began to wave her wand around inside it. A creamy sauce poured from the wand tip as she stirred. "It's not as though they haven't got brains," she continued irritably, taking the saucepan over to the stove and lighting it with a further poke of her wand, "but they're wasting them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble. I've had more owls from Hogwarts about them than the rest put together. If they carry on the way they're going, they'll end up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office." Mrs. Weasley jabbed her wand at the cutlery drawer, which shot open. Harry and Ron both jumped out of the way as several knives soared out of it, flew across the kitchen, and began chopping the potatoes, which had just been tipped back into the sink by the dustpan. "I don't know where we went wrong with them," said Mrs. Weasley, putting down her wand and starting to pull out still more saucepans. "It's been the same for years, one thing after another, and they won't listen to - OH NOT AGAIN!" She had picked up her wand from the table, and it had emitted a loud squeak and turned into a giant rubber mouse. "One of their fake wands again!" she shouted. "How many times have I told them not to leave them lying around?" She grabbed her real wand and turned around to find that the sauce on the stove was smoking.

"C'mon," Ron said hurriedly to Harry, seizing a handful of cutlery from the open drawer, "let's go and help Bill and Charlie." We left Mrs. Weasley and headed out the back door into the yard. I had only gone a few paces when Hermione's bandy-legged ginger cat, Crookshanks, came pelting out of the garden, bottle-brush tail held high in the air, chasing what looked like a muddy potato on legs. I recognized it instantly as a gnome. Was barely ten inches high, its horny little feet pattered very fast as it sprinted across the yard and dived headlong into one of the Wellington boots that lay scattered around the door. I could hear the gnome giggling madly as Crookshanks inserted a paw into the boot, trying to reach it. Meanwhile, a very loud crashing noise was coming from the other side of the house. The source of the commotion was revealed as they entered the garden, and saw that Bill and Charlie both had their wands out, and was making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Fred and George were cheering, Ginny was laughing, and Hermione was hovering near the hedge, apparently torn between amusement and anxiety. Bill's table caught Charlie's with a huge bang and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead, and they all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor.

"Will you keep it down?!" he bellowed.

"Sorry, Perce," said Bill, grinning. "How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?"

"Very badly," said Percy peevishly, and he slammed the window shut. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg and conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

By seven o'clock, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking, and the nine Weasley's, the flock, me, Harry, and Hermione were settling themselves down to eat beneath a clear, deep-blue sky. At the far end of the table, Percy was telling his father all about his report on cauldron bottoms.

"I've told Mr. Crouch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday," Percy was saying pompously. "That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time, I mean; it's extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman -"

"I like Ludo," said Mr. Weasley mildly. "He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bit of a favor: His brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble - a lawnmower with unnatural powers - I smoothed the whole thing over."

"Oh Bagman's likable enough, of course," said Percy dismissively, "but how he ever got to be Head of Department ... when I compare him to Mr. Crouch! I can't see Mr. Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them.

"You realize Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?" I said, wanting to join in.

"Yes, I was asking Ludo about that," said Mr. Weasley, frowning. "He says Bertha's gotten lost plenty of times before now - though must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried. . . ." I nodded,

"Oh Bertha's hopeless, all right," said Percy. "I hear she's been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she's worth ... but all the same, Bagman ought to be trying to find her. Mr. Crouch has been taking a personal interest, she worked in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mr. Crouch was quite fond of her - but Bagman just keeps laughing and saying she probably misread the map and ended up in Australia instead of Albania. However" - Percy heaved an impressive sigh and took a deep swig of elderflower wine - "we've got quite enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Cooperation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organize right after the World Cup."

Percy cleared his throat significantly and looked down toward the end of the table where Harry, Ron, me, Blade and Hermione were sitting. "You know the one I'm talking about, Father." He raised his voice slightly. "The top-secret one." Ron rolled his eyes and muttered to us,

"He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. It's probably an exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons." In the middle of the table, Mrs. Weasley was arguing with Bill about his earring, which seemed to be a recent acquisition.

". . . with a horrible great fang on it. Really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?"

"Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," said Bill patiently.

"And your hair's getting silly, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, fingering her wand lovingly." I wish you'd let me give it a trim. . . ."

"I like it," said Ginny, who was sitting beside Bill. "You're so old-fashioned, Mum.

"Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore's..." Said Blade, next to Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Charlie were all talking spiritedly about the World Cup.

"It's got to be Ireland," said Charlie thickly, through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semifinals."

"Bulgaria has got Viktor Krum, though," said Fred.

"Krum's one decent player, Ireland has got seven," said Charlie shortly. "I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was."

"What happened?" said Harry eagerly, I was regretting more than ever for his isolation from the wizarding world when he was stuck on Privet Drive.

"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Charlie gloomily.

"A shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg." Said Blade with equal gloom. Harry had been on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team ever since his first year at Hogwarts and owned one of the best racing brooms in the world, a Firebolt. Flying came more naturally to Harry than anything else in the magical world, and he played in the position of Seeker on the Gryffindor House team. I personally didn't like Quidditch, Mr. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before we had our homemade strawberry ice cream, and by the time we had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table, and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle. I was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as I watched several gnomes sprinting through the rosebushes, laughing madly and closely pursued by Crookshanks. Ron looked carefully up the table to check that the rest of the family were all busy talking, then he said very quietly to us, "So - have you heard from Sirius and Alohamora lately?" Hermione looked around, listening closely.

"Yeah," said Harry softly, "twice. They sound okay. I wrote to them yesterday. They might write back while I'm here."

"Look at the time," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, if you leave your school list out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup; the match went on for five days last time."

"Wow - hope it does this time!" said Harry enthusiastically.

"Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred.

"That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"

"It was," Fred whispered to us as they got up from the table. "We sent it." I burst out laughing, tactful I know, but soon I started everybody else off.

I was shoved off the bed by a very hyper Angel,

"Get up Wolfie, it is the world cup." I muttered words at her that i couldn't even make out.

I dressed in silence, too sleepy to talk, then, yawning and stretching, the three of us headed downstairs into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets. He looked up as we entered and spread his arms so that they could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing sweater and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt.

"What d'you think?" he asked anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito - do I look like a Muggle, Wolfie?"

"Yeah," said I, smiling, "very good."

"Where're Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" said George, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" said Mrs. Weasley, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in." I knew that Apparating meant disappearing from one place and reappearing almost instantly in another, but had never known any Hogwarts student to do it, and understood that it was very difficult.

"So they're still in bed?" said Fred grumpily, pulling his bowl of porridge toward him.

"Why can't we Apparate too?"

"Because you're not of age and you haven't passed your test," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "And where have those girls got to?" She bustled out of the kitchen and they heard her climbing the stairs.

"You have to pass a test to Apparate?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Weasley, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans.

"The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a license. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done property it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves." Everyone around the table except Harry and I winced.

"Er - splinched?" said Harry and I. Then ooked at each other shocked, we'd never pulled a Fred and George before.

"They left half of themselves behind," said Mr. Weasley, now spooning large amounts of treacle onto his porridge. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they'd left behind..."

I had a sudden vision of a pair of legs and an eyeball lying abandoned on the floor of my bedroom.

"Were they okay?" We asked startled, startled.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Weasley matter-of-factly. "But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again in a hurry. You don't mess around with Apparition.

There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms - slower, but safer."

"But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?"

"Charlie had to take the test twice," said Fred, grinning. "He failed the first time.

"Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?" said George

"Yes, well, he passed the second time," said Mrs. Weasley, marching back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers.

"Percy only passed two weeks ago," said George. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can."

There were footsteps down the passageway and Hermione, Ginny, Nudge and Max came into the kitchen, both looking pale and drowsy. Iggy was yawning his head off behind him and Fang seemed fine.

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny said, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table.

"We've got a bit of a walk," said Mr. Weasley.

"Walk?" said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup..."

"George!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.

"What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!" Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.

"We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!" It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans. Well the twins were inventive, I'll give them that.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!"

All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

"Well, have a lovely time," said Mrs. Weasley, "and behave yourselves," she called after

The twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer. "I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday," Mrs. Weasley said to Mr. Weasley, as he, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Blade, Nudge, Angel, Gazzy, me, Iggy, Fang and Ginny set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. I, having been thinking about thousands of wizards speeding toward the Quidditch World Cup, sped up to walk with Mr. Weasley.

"So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" I asked.

"It's been a massive organizational problem," sighed Mr. Weasley. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course, we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry's been working on it for months. First, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can't have too many clogging up their buses and trains - remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point. For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkeys. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed." Mr. Weasley pointed ahead of them, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"What sort of objects are Portkeys?" said Harry curiously.

"Well, they can be anything," said Mr. Weasley. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them ... stuff they'll just think is litter..."

We trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence broken only by our footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made our way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. My hands and feet were freezing. Mr. Weasley kept checking his watch.

We didn't have breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass.

Each breath I took was sharp in my chest and my legs were starting to seize up when, at last, my feet found level ground.

"Whew," panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time - we've got ten minutes." Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side. Angel was getting a piggyback from Fred who looked equally warn out.

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big... Come on..."

We spread out, searching. We had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it."

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of us followed. Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?" Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at all of us. He smiled at me, I smiled back.

Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year. I had been told in detail by them how unfair it was, Angel glared at them and I knew she was having a mind argument with them.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.

"Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still ... not complaining ... Quidditch World Cup wouldn't miss it for sacksful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy. . . ." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, the Flock, me and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children and us. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's - and Harry, another friend -"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er - yeah," said Harry. Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but it always made him feel uncomfortable.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you last year... I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will... You beat Harry Potter!" Harry couldn't think of any reply to this, so he remained silent. Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed. I smiled reassuringly at him,

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. I told you ... it was an accident..."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman ... but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on; you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"Must be nearly time," said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off ... We'd better get ready..." He looked around at us.

"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -" With difficulty, owing to our bulky backpacks, the fifteen of us crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. we all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop.

Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to me how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now ... fifteen people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting...

"Three. . ." muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, two. . . one. . ."

It happened immediately: I felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. My feet left the ground; I could feel Cedric and Iggy on either side of me, their shoulders banging into mine; we were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; my forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling me magnetically onward and then -my feet slammed into the ground; Iggy staggered into me and I fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near my head with a heavy thud. I looked up. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.

I disentangled myself from Iggy and got to my feet. We had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of us was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly:

The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

"Morning, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; I could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some... We've been here all night... You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite... Weasley ... Weasley..." He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory ... second field ... ask for Mr. Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.

We set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, I could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. We said good-bye to the Diggory's and approached the cottage door. A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. I knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard our footsteps, he turned his head to look at us.

"Morning!" said Mr. Weasley brightly.

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr. Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Ah - right - certainly -" said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. "Help me, Harry," he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a - a - a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now... So this is a five?"

"A twenty," Harry corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts trying to catch every word.

"Ah yes, so it is... I don't know, these little bits of paper..."

"You foreign?" said Mr. Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley nervously. Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again.

"Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."

"Is that right?" said Mr. Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley anxiously

"It's like some sort of... I dunno ... like some sort of rally," said Mr. Roberts. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party." At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts's front door.

"Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknotted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. Harry recognized the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr. Weasley.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur." He Disapparated.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," said Ginny, looking surprised

"He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?" Said Nudge, Angel was happily skipping beside us, humming a happy tune.

"Bludgers are so awesome, I mean ZOMG!" Said Gazzy imitating Nudge, she hit him over the head rather forcefully.

"He should," said Mr. Weasley, smiling, and leading us through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit ... well . . . lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

We trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that I could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on we passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"Always the same," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

We had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult... Muggles do it all the time... Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

The flock smiled at each other and I couldn't help but be happy to. When you've been on the run, you live in tents. Pitching one shouldn't be hard at all. Angel go all the polls and stuff out, her and Gazzy started to connected them, while Blade and I got the sheets. Ten minutes later we had pitched both tents and smiled happily.

We stood back to admire our handiwork. Nobody looking at these tents would guess they belonged to wizards, I thought, but the trouble was that once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, they would be a large party. Hermione seemed to have spotted this problem too; she gave me a quizzical look as Mr. Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and entered the first tent.

"We'll be a bit cramped," he called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

I bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt my jaw drop. I had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen.

"Well, it's not for long," said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago."

He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water...

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Ron, who had followed Harry inside the tent and seemed completely unimpressed by its extraordinary inner proportions.

"It's on the other side of the field."

"Well, why don't you, Harry, Hermione, Blade and Wolfie go and get us some water then" - Mr. Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans - "and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire? Oh take Angel as well." Angel smiled and skipped over to me, saucepan in hand.

"But we've got an oven," said Ron. "Why can't we just -"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" said Mr. Weasley, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

After a quick tour of the girls' tent, which was slightly smaller than the boys', though without the smell of cats, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Blade, Angel and I set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans.

Now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, we could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. We made our way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around. It was only just dawning on me how many witches and wizards there must be in the world; I had never really thought much about those in other countries.

Our fellow campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children; I had never seen witches and wizards this young before. A tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of salami. As we drew level with him, his mother came hurrying out of the tent.

"How many times, Kevin? You don't - touch - Daddy's - wand - yecchh! "

She had trodden on the giant slug, which burst. Her scolding carried after us on the still air, mingling with the little boy's yells - "You bust slug! You bust slug!"

A short way farther on, we saw two little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls' toes to skim the dewy grass. A Ministry wizard had already spotted them; as he hurried past us he muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in, I suppose -"

Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn't work. Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, while a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read: THE SALEM WITCHES' INSTITUTE. I caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the inside of tents we passed, and though I couldn't understand a word, the tone of every single voice was excited.

"Er - is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" said Ron.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. We had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Then, from behind us, we heard our names.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione! Blade! Wolfie!"

It was Seamus Finnigan, a fellow Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor.

"Like the decorations?" said Seamus, grinning. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?" said Mrs. Finnigan. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" she added, eyeing us beadily. When we had assured her that we were indeed supporting Ireland, we set off again, though, as Ron said,

"Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" said Hermione.

"Let's go and have a look," said Harry, pointing to a large patch of tents upfield, where the Bulgarian flag - white, green, and red - was fluttering in the breeze.

"Come on it looks cool!" Said Blade, smiling happily. Angel giggled and ran out in front a bit, it was nice seeing her act like an normal kid.

The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows.

The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

"Krum," said Ron quietly.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Who's Krum?" I asked.

"Krum!" said Ron. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"You have to know Wolfie, I told you all about him." Blade stated. She did? Oh well, I must have been thinking about something useful at the time, like how to shut her up.

"He looks really grumpy," said Hermione, looking around at the many Krum's blinking and scowling at them.

"'Really grumpy?" Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like?

"He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see." Said Blade.

There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. We joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that; the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious -

I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Angel was overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at this point that she had to duck out of the queue and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away.

Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, we made our way back through the campsite. Here and there, we saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood, the old captain of our House Quidditch team, who had just left Hogwarts, dragged Harry over to his parents' tent to introduce him, and told him excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Next we were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year, and a little farther on we saw Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She waved and smiled at Harry, who slopped quite a lot of water down his front as he waved back. More to stop Ron from smirking than anything, Harry hurriedly pointed out a large group of teenagers whom he had never seen before. I rolled my eyes at him and Harry glared at me.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" he said. "They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?"

"'S'pect they go to some foreign school," said Ron. "I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazil ... this was years and years ago ... and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

I laughed but didn't voice the amazement I felt at hearing about other wizarding schools. I supposed, now that I saw representatives of so many nationalities in the campsite, that I had been stupid never to realize that Hogwarts couldn't be the only one. I glanced at Hermione, who looked utterly unsurprised by the information. No doubt she had run across the news about other wizarding schools in some book or other.

"You've been ages," said George when we finally got back to the Weasleys' tents.

"Met a few people," said Ron, setting the water down. "You've not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," said Fred.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Oops!" he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

At last we got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while we waited, however. Our tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harry's, Hermione's, the flock's and my benefit; his own children knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office... Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now... Hello, Arnie ... Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator - member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know... and that's Bode and Croaker ... they're Unspeakables..."

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret and no idea what they get up to..."

At last, the fire was ready, and we had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward us.

"Just Apparated, Dad," said Percy loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

we were halfway through our plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them. "Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person I had seen so far, even including old Archie in his flowered nightdress. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, I thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement. "Arthur, old man," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming ... and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements... Not much for me to do!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression. I couldn't help but laugh, but quickly turned it into a violent coughing fit.

"Ah - yes," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - and this is Fred - no, George, sorry - that's Fred - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter, Ginny, Nick, Jeff but we call him Iggy, my youngest son- Gazzy. Max- my eldest daughter, Then we have West and Wolfie, Tiffany-Krystal but the kids call her Nudge- she is the same age as her sister, Ginny, the youngest- Angel and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter." Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harry's name, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upward to the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets -" Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match."

"Oh ... go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see ... a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well ... any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like -"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins - but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that," Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting... That's all your savings ... Your mother -"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly.

"They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance... I'll give you excellent odds on that one ... We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we..."

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll. . ."

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively.

"All you have to do is point and grunt." Blade added, I was having a lot of coughing fits today.

Percy threw Fred and Blade an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha ...memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated at our fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished. I could see at once why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a bank manager; I doubted even Harry's Uncle Vernon would have spotted him for what he really was.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barry," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half-bow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes - thank you, Weatherby."

Fred, George, Blade and I choked into our own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets." Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve - but that was before carpets were banned, of course." He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman breezily.

"Fairly," said Mr. Crouch dryly. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr. Weasley. Ludo Bagman looked shocked.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun... Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -"

"Oh details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts -"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!"

He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred at once. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said , smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," said Fred.

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere. Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria - which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron told Harry as we strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him. Angel bought a rosette along with Nudge, Blade, Ginny, Hermione, the twins, Gazzy and Iggy.

"Wow, look at these!" said Harry, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," said the saleswizard eagerly. "You can replay action ... slow everything down ... and they flash up a play-by- play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Ten pairs," said Harry firmly to the wizard.

"No - don't bother," said Ron, going red. He was always touchy about the fact that Harry, who had inherited a small fortune from his parents, had much more money than he did.

"You won't be getting anything for Christmas," Harry told him, thrusting Omnioculars into his and Hermione's hands. "For about ten years, mind." He handed them out and stopped at me.

"Hold it, I haven't bought anything yet." I smiled and handed Harry ten Galleons, much to his protest. "I'll be expecting a Christmas present now."

"Fair enough," said Ron, grinning.

"Oooh, thanks, Harry," said Hermione. "And I'll get us some programs, look -"

"Thanks" The rest coursed, Angel giggled skipping along happily.

Our money bags considerably lighter,we went back to the tents. Bill and Charlie were sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag.

Fred and George had no souvenirs (Apart from Harry's gift) as they had given Bagman all their gold. And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.

"It's time!" said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. "Come on, let's go!"

Clutching our purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead, we all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. we could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around us, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; Harry couldn't stop grinning, it was starting to freak me out. We walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last, we emerged on the other side and found ourselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though I could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, I could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on our faces. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again ...bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go." I was glad I had wings; if something went wrong I could fly out.

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. We clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Our party kept climbing, and at last we reached the top of the staircase and found ourselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and I, filing into the front seats with the Weasley's, looked down upon a scene the likes of which I could never have imagined.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at my eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, I saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burgler Buzzer ... Mrs. Shower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain! ... Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade...

I tore my eyes away from the sign and looked over my shoulder to see who else was sharing the box with us. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature, whose legs were so short they stuck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea towel draped like a toga, and it had its face hidden in its hands. Yet those long, batlike ears were oddly familiar...

"Dobby?" said Harry incredulously.

The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. It wasn't Dobby - it was, however, unmistakably a house-elf, as Harry's friend Dobby had been. Harry had set Dobby free from his old owners, the Malfoy family. He had told me and The Flock this in great detail,

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" squeaked the elf curiously from between its fingers. Its voice was high, a teeny, quivering squeak of a voice, and I suspected though it was very hard to tell with a house-elf - that this one might just be female. Ron, Hermione and Blade spun around in their seats to look. Though we had heard a lot about Dobby from Harry, we had never actually met him. Even Mr. Weasley looked around in interest.

"Sorry," Harry told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir - and you, sir -" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"How is he?" said Harry. "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," said Winky, shaking her head, "ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why?" said Harry, taken aback. "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir," said Winky sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" said Harry.

Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" said I blankly. "Well - why shouldn't he be paid?" Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.

"House-elves is not paid, Miss!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, Miss, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," said Harry.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said Winky firmly, from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter" - she glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped - "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" said I, frowning.

"Master - master wants me to save him a seat, friend of Harry Potter. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, friend of Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again.

Harry turned back to us.

"So that's a house-elf?" Ron muttered. "Weird things, aren't they?"

"Dobby was weirder," said Harry fervently.

Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again ... and again ... and again. . ."

Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet covered, tasselled program.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match," Nudge read aloud over her shoulder.

"Oh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend. They had met before, and Fudge shook Harry's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how he was, and introduced him to the wizards on either side of him.

"Harry Potter, you know," he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English.

"Harry Potter ... oh come on now, you know who he is ... the boy who survived You-Know-Who ... you do know who he is -"

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," said Fudge wearily to Harry. "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat... Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places ... ah, and here's Lucius!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Blade and I turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley were none other than Dobby the house-elf's former owners: Lucius Malfoy; his son, Draco; and a woman I supposed must be Draco's mother.

Harry and Draco Malfoy had been enemies ever since their very first journey to Hogwarts.

A pale boy with a pointed face and white-blond hair, Draco greatly resembled his father.

His mother was blonde too; tall and slim, she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose. I rolled my eyes at them as Angel crawled onto my lap, glaring at them.

"They think they are better than us, the boy called you freak." Angel whispered to me, I shrugged and looked back.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic.

"How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other. Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How - how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. I knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that. The Malfoy's prided themselves on being purebloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything. He nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Harry, Ron, Hermione, Blade and I one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as we turned to face the field again. Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister - ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen. . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce. . . the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!"

He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What are veel -?"

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Angel's question was answered for her. Veela were women. . . the most beautiful women I'd had ever seen. except that they weren't - they couldn't be - human.

The veela had started to dance, and The boys got a blank look on their faces, Iggy was grinning like an idiot.

"What the hell!" Blade exclaimed as she held George down, I held Fred.

"Harry, what are you doing?" said Hermione.

The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Ron, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."

"Huh?" said Ron, staring open mouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field. Hermione made a loud tutting noise. She reached up and pulled Harry back into his seat.

"Honestly!" she said. Angel was too busy laughing with Nudge and Ginny to tell me what had just happened, Where is the mind reader when you need her,

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air. . . for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it –

"Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over us, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, I now realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!" I was laughing and throwing coins at Blade who declared a coin war.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!

I give you - Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. I quickly focused his own.

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen and to be perfectly honest, I didn't see what was so special about him.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; I spun a small dial on the side of my Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word "Firebolt" on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache to rival Harry's Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. I spun the speed dial on my Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (I saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was Quidditch and for the first time since I had heard of it I was actually interested in what was going on.

The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. I spun the slow dial on the right of my Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and I was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums.

HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION, I read as I watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. PORSKOFF PLOY flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran.

One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it - "TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"

"What?" I yelled, looking wildly around through my Omnioculars. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Wolfie, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honour around the field. I looked quickly over the top of my Omnioculars and saw that the leprechauns watching from the side-lines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them sulkily.

Furious with myself, I spun my speed dial back to normal as play resumed.

I Knew very little about quidditch, just the basics and even I knew the teams were superb. "Troy - Mullet - Mo ran!" And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the veela started to dance in celebration. Harry screwed up his eyes too I couldn't help but laugh at his face. After a few seconds, he chanced a glance at the field again I followed his example. The veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman.

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. I followed their descent through my Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was - "They're going to crash!" screamed Hermione next to Harry.

She was half right - at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"Fool!" moaned Mr. Weasley. "Krum was feinting!"

"It's time-out!" yelled Bagman's voice, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Angel, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course..."

"But that was a mean trick, I hope he isn't too badly hurt." She said, Nudge shrugged,

"It is Quidditch Angel, there is bound to be injuries." I'll add that to my 'Why I hate Quidditch' list, thanks Nudge.

I hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on my Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to my eyes.

I watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. WRONSKI DEFENSIVE FEINT -DANGEROUS SEEKER DIVERSION read the shining purple lettering across the lenses. I saw Krum's face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lynch was flattened, and I understood - Krum hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. I had never seen anyone fly like that (even with wings); Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless. I turned my Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. I, focusing still more closely upon Krum's face, saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference.

Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivalled by anything I had seen so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals.

They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly I didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!"

Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!" The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

As one, the Weasley boys, Harry, Iggy and Fang (Gazzy wasn't affected) stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Hermione, was soon tugging on Harry's arm. He turned to look at her, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears.

"Look at the referee!" she said, giggling.

Harry and I looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!" I was laughing so hard, I fell off my seat and that started everybody else off, I was leaning on Iggy for support.

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; I, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before. . .. Oh this could turn nasty. . ."

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger.

"And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms. . . yes. . . there they go. . . and Troy takes the Quaffle. ."

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything we had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"Foul!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.

"Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran -deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!" Hearing Ludo commentate reminded me of Lee, his was much funnier; McGonagall just spent the whole time telling him off.

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, I saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders -"

And that, boys," yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!" I snorted,

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. I turned this way and that, staring through my Omnioculars, as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov -The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face. There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and I couldn't blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.

I wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though I was supporting Ireland, Krum was the most exciting player on the field. Ron obviously felt the same.

"Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him -"

"Look at Lynch!" Harry yelled.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and I was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing...

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

"COME ON SHOW KRUM YOU CAN BEAT HIM!" Angel yelled, jumping up and down.

Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on. . . but Krum was on his tail.

How he could see where he was going, I had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again -"

They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione.

"They're not!" roared Ron.

"Lynch is!" yelled Harry.

"Ok please no again!" Angel was covering her face with her hands.

And Harry was right - for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie, along the row.

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" shouted Harry, Blade let out a loud groan and face palmed.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was raising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what, had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland was a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good. . . . He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all!"

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess. . ."

"Serves him right for what he did to our seeker." Said Angel, I'm guessing someone doesn't like Krum anymore.

Harry and I put our Omnioculars to our eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but I could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind me. I looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Veil, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.

my eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, I saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; I could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge.

Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. I noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, ear-splitting roar. Then came in the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. My hands were numb with clapping.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Confolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, "Quietus."

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that. . . . Shame it couldn't have lasted longer. . . . Ah yes... . Yes, I owe you. . . how much?"

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

-o-O-o-

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as we all made our way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated." Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

We were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as we retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over our heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When we finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around ua, Mr. Weasley agreed that we could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. We were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Angel fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed. Hermione, Ginny, Blade, Nudge, Max, Angel and I went into the next tent.

I, who was on a top bunk above Blade, lay staring up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Krum's more spectacular moves. I was itching to get to fly, to feel free again,

I never knew whether or not I had actually dropped off to sleep - his fantasies of flying might well have slipped into actual dreams - all I knew was that, quite suddenly, Mr. Weasley was shouting.

"Get up! Girls- come on now, get up, this is urgent!"

I sat up quickly and the top of my head hit canvas.

"S' matter?" I said. Dimly, I could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed.

The singing had stopped. I could hear screams, and the sound of people running. I slipped down from the bunk and reached for my clothes, but Mr. Weasley, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pajamas, said, "No time, Wolfie - just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!"

I did as I was told and hurried out of the tent, Blade at my heels at his heels.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward us, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward us; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward was marching slowly across the field. I squinted at them. . . . They didn't seem to have faces. . . . Then I realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. They were the masked men from my vision, the one Aloha and Tommy fought! High above us, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.

More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice I saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and I recognized one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Blade muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick. . . ."

The Boys came hurrying toward us, pulling coats over their PJs, with Mr. Weasley right behind them. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny and Nudge's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood We followed, George carrying Angel. We all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; we could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

The coloured lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. The crowd thickened around me, I lost sight of the others. The space to cramped to spread out my wings,

"WEST! IGGY! HARRY! ANYBODY!" I called out frantically, I ran as fast as I could. I stopped suddenly,

Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees.

"Hello, Weasley," said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like to be spotted, would you?" a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said I defiantly.

"Weasley, they're after Muggles, "said Malfoy. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around. . . they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"I'm a witch," I snarled.

"Have it your own way, Weasley," said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" shouted I boy shouted. Everybody present knew that "Mudblood" was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage. I turned to see Cedric Diggory standing just behind me. There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Malfoy chuckled softly.

"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're your parents?" said Cedric, his temper rising. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Malfoy turned his face to him, still smiling.

"Well. . . if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Diggory?"

"Oh come on," I said, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, "let's go and find the others."

"Keep out the way freak, they'll be after you" sneered Malfoy.

"Come on," I repeated, and I pulled Cedric up the path again.

"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" he said hotly. " What are you doing out by yourself?"

"I got separated. I have no idea where my family is." I said

I looked at the path again they were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. A huddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Cedric and I, a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly, "O? est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue -"

"Er - what?" I said.

"Oh. . ." The girl who had spoken turned her back on him, and as they walked on they distinctly heard her say, "Ogwarts."

"Beauxbatons," muttered Cedric.

"Sorry?" I said.

"They must go to Beauxbatons," he said. "You know... Beauxbatons Academy of Magic."

"Oh. . . yeah. . . right," I said.

"We should stick together, better us being lost together than being lost and alone." He said smiling at me,

"I'm not lost!"

"Oh really, then tell me what are you doing?"

"I'm gathering my bearings." He chuckled. There was a cold hard laugh from behind us, I turned slowly. There stood a masked man, his wand pointed at Cedric and I. Cedric stood in front of me,

"Oh look at the big, brave boy standing up for his girl." he chuckled.

"Look at the psychopathic maniac who thinks he's better than everybody else, what am I supposed to be, scared." I said, in the voice I'd use against a whitecoat. Cedric cast me a sideways look, I stared ahead, looking at the man in front of me.

"You filthy little mudblood." He pulled out his wand, I got in my fighting stance. He shot a spell it missed me, just. Unfolding my wings I flew at him and kicked him hard in the chest. he flew backwards and landed with a thud.

"Wolfie!" Yelled Cedric, but it was too late. I felt a hard blow to the back of my head,

"She just flew at me Avery," Said the one I had knocked over. The one who had hit me grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me up.

"She's a little girl for Merlin's sake!" I looked around, Cedric was pinned down by to masked men, I was to dazed to fight the one with the hold on me properly. I struggled, "Feisty isn't she." The one I hit stood up and looked at me,

"Freak she is, she has wings." I was struggling hard now,

"Wolfie, don't touch her!" Cedric yelled,

"Shut it you!"

"My dad works for the Ministry, you'll be sorry!" I yelled,

"We aren't scared of the Ministry love," Said Avery smelling my hair.

Then there was a massive bang. Cedric had gotten a hold of his wand and blasted the two how were pinning him down. He shot Avery and I landed with a thud.

"Come on!" he yelled helping me up. I ran for it clinging to his hand. We ran through the trees as fast as we could. I was holding my free had against my face which was bleeding badly. "Are you ok?" Cedric asked once we stopped.

"Yeah, just…..Just a bit shaken." I said "Thanks by the way." He nodded. A few seconds later, we heard Mr. Diggory shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but - blimey. ."

"That's my dad, come on he'll help us."

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

We heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory emerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. Cedric pulled me into the clearing, no one noticed us and I recognized the tea towel at once. It was Winky.

Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

"This - cannot - be," he said jerkily. "No -"

He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off toward the place where he had found Winky.

"No point, Mr. Crouch," Mr. Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."

But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.

"Bit embarrassing," Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf. . . I mean to say..."

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? "The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mr. Diggory, "and she had a wand."

"What?" said Mr. Weasley.

"Here, look." Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."

Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley.

Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-green skull.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barry! What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know?" I said,

"Wolfie!" Angel yelled she ran up and hugged me,

"We lost you we looked and looked but we couldn't find you then this thing appeared in the sky and it was really weird it was the dark mark you-know-who's sing and…."

"NUDGE!" We all yelled, Nudge blushed and looked down at her feet. Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush moustache were both twitching.

"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too - gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "What happened to her?"

"I have been busy, Ludo," said Mr. Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why - ?" Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr. Crouch.

"No!" he said. "Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!"

"And she had one," said Mr. Diggory. "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."

"Dad, really, she's an elf." Said Cedric, I just realized we were still holding hands, I let his hand go, I knew I was blushing hard. Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "Ennervate!" Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position.

She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. I could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Mr. Diggory sternly. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!" Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. I was reminded of the dyeing mutants I had seen at the Scottish school, they did that when they had no hope left. "As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago," said Mr. Diggory. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

"I - I - I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" barked Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above,I recognized it

"Hey - that's mine!" Harry said Everyone in the clearing looked at him.

"Excuse me?" said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.

"That's my wand!" said Harry. "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" repeated Mr. Diggory in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Amos, think who you're talking to!" said Mr. Weasley, very angrily. "Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er - of course not," mumbled Mr. Diggory. "Sorry. . . carried away. .

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," said Harry, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."

"So," said Mr. Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, sir!" squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is. . . I is. . . I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't her!" said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. "Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked around at Harry and Ron, appealing for their support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?"

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yeah, it was a human voice," said Ron.

"Well, we'll soon see," growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory raised his own wand again and placed it tip to tip with Harry's.

"Prior Incantato!" roared Mr. Diggory.

Harry heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above us; it looked as though it were made of thick grey smoke: the ghost of a spell.

"Deletrius!" Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," said Mr. Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"You've been caught red-handed, elf!" Mr. Diggory roared. "Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"

"Amos," said Mr. Weasley loudly, "think about it. . . precious few wizards know how to do that spell. . . . Where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. "Mr. Crouch.. .not. . . not at all."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!" barked Mr. Crouch. "Harry Potter - and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course - everyone knows -" muttered Mr. Diggory, looking highly discomforted.

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

"Mr. Crouch, I - I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" Amos Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" shouted Mr. Crouch. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

"She - she might've picked it up anywhere -"

"Precisely, Amos," said Mr. Weasley. "She might have picked it up anywhere.. . . Winky?"He said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?" Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.

"I - I is finding it. . . finding it there, sir. . . ." she whispered, "there . . . in the trees, sir.

"You see, Amos?" said Mr. Weasley. "Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!" said Mr. Diggory impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone?" Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory, to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said,

"I is seeing no one, sir. .. no one. ."

"Amos," said Mr. Crouch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her."

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear to me that Mr. Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch added coldly.

"M-m-master. . ." Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please. . ."

Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched.

There was no pity in his gaze.

"Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said slowly. "I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes."

"No!" shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

I knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" I burst out angrily, glaring at Mr. Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly, looking over at me. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can - if Harry could have it back, please -" Mr. Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it.

"Come on," Mr. Weasley said quietly. But I didn't seem to want to move; my eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. "Wolfie!" Mr. Weasley said, more urgently. I turned and followed Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees saying my good bye to Cedric.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" said Hermione, the moment we had left the clearing.

"I don't know," said Mr. Weasley.

"The way they were treating her!" said Hermione furiously. "Mr. Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time. . . and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn't do it and he's still going to sack her! He didn't care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was - it was like she wasn't even human!"

"Well, she's not," said Ron.

I rounded on him.

"That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. Oh and I am not completely human, neither is the flock, so do you think we should be treated like that -"

"Hermione, Wolfie, I agree with you," said Mr. Weasley quickly, beckoning us on, "but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to you Wolfie?"

"I got lost in the crowd, Cedric found me in a fight with Malfoy and we got attacked by these weird masked men. We got away." stopped walking and grabbed me by the shoulders

"Did they do anything to you?"

"Not really, I kicked ones butt though." Mr. Weasley sighed in relief.

"Daddy why is everybody so uptight about that mark?" Angel asked

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr. Weasley tensely.

But when we reached the edge of the wood, our progress was impeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr. Weasley coming toward them, many of them surged forward.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur - it's not - Him?"

"Of course it's not Him," said Mr. Weasley impatiently. "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

He led us through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking.

Charlie's head was poking out of the boys' tent.

"Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Where is everybody else?"

"I've got them here," said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. We entered after him.

Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose.

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Barry Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"What?" said Bill, Charlie, and Percy together

"Harry's wand?" said Bill.

"Mr. Crouch's elf" said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from the rest (I was under attack at this point), Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to. . . embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry. . . how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control -"

"She didn't do anything - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy - better, indeed, than any of the others.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok!" I shouted. "She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" said Ron impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone. . . . Why's it such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. "I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked . . . it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean. . . it's still only a shape in the sky. ."

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," said Mr. Weasley. "The terror it inspired . . . you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside. . . ." Mr. Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear . . . the very worst.."

There was silence for a moment. Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now." He gave me an ice pack and I placed it over my wound on my head,

"Death Eaters?" I said remembering Aloha saying that in a vision I had. "What are Death Eaters?"

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," said Bill. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr. Weasley. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly.

"Mr Weasley, I met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told me his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoy's were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters -" Harry began. Every red head flinched - like most of the wizarding world; the Weasley's always avoided saying Voldemort's name. "Sorry," said Harry quickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" said Mr. Weasley with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.

"But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," said Bill. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives. . . . I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So. . . whoever conjured the Dark Mark. . ." said Hermione slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley. "But I'll tell you this. . .It was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now. . Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

I got back into my bunk with my head buzzing. I knew I ought to feel exhausted: It was nearly three in the morning, but I felt wide-awake - wide-awake, and worried. What if Voldemort did return? Would the flock be in danger? Would Hermione? My head was reeling but I finally, finally fell asleep.

**R&R**

**-Darnet**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Back To School

Mr. Weasley woke us after only a few hours sleep. He used magic to pack up the tents, and we left the campsite as quickly as possible. We were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. We walked back up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because we were so exhausted. As we rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!" Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for us in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.

"Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried-" She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. "You're all right," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive. . . . Oh boys. . ." And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.

"Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us -"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW.L.s? Oh Fred. . . George. ."

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. "Bill," he added in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says. . ."

When we were all in the kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.

"I knew it," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Ministry blunders. . . culprits not apprehended . . . lax security. . . Dark wizards running unchecked... national disgrace. . . Who wrote this? Ah. . . of course. . . Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans -"

"Do us a favor, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up."

"I'm mentioned," said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.

"Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," said Mr. Weasley. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry ofMagic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but reflising to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh really," said Mr. Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods. . . Well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that." He heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

Mrs. Weasley looked most upset. "Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off. . . ."

"Mrs. Weasley," said Harry suddenly, "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

"Hedwig, dear?" said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. "No. . . no, there hasn't been any post at all."

"All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Yeah. . . think I will too," said Ron at once. "Hermione, Wolfie, West?"

"Yes," Hermione said quickly, Wolfie and I nodded in agreement and we marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"What's up, Harry?" said Ron, the moment Wolfie had closed the door behind us

"There's something I haven't told you," Harry said. "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again." Hermione gasped and started making suggestions at once, mentioning a number of reference books, and everybody from Albus Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse. Ron simply looked dumbstruck. Wolfie's expression was unreadable.

"But - he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean - last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?" asked Ron

"I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive," said Harry. "But I was dreaming about him.. . him and Peter - you know, Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill...someone."

"It was only a dream," said Ron bracingly. "Just a nightmare."

"Yeah, but was it, though?" said Harry "It's weird, isn't it?. . . My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."

"Don't - say - his - name!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth.

"And remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Harry went on, ignoring Ron. "At the end of last year?"

"Oh Harry, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?" Hermione snorted

"You weren't there," said Harry. "You didn't hear her. This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance - a real one. And she said the Dark Lord would rise again. . . greater and more terrible than ever before. . . and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him. . . and that night Wormtail escaped." This was the first I'd heard of Trelawney's premonition.

"Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you expecting a letter?"

"I told Sirius about my scar," said Harry, shrugging. "I'm waiting for his answer."

"Good thinking!" said Ron, his expression clearing. "I bet Sirius'll know what to do!"

"I hoped he'd get back to me quickly," said Harry.

"But we don't know where Sirius is. . . he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he?" said Wolfie reasonably. "Hedwig's not going to manage that journey in a few days."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry

"Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry" said Ron. "Come on - three on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play. .. . You can try out the Wronski Feint... ."

"Ron," said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice, "Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now... . He's worried, and he's tired. . . . We all need to go to bed..."

"Yeah, I want to play Quidditch," said Harry suddenly. "Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt."

"Hey! How come I can't go and play?" I said mocking outrage

"Because you don't have a broom and you've never actualy played before." said Ron

"Well I can learn, can't I?"

"Go ask your good friends the twins to teach you."

"Maybe I will. Later. If I can't play I'm at least going to watch." Hermione and Wolfie left the room to do god knows what while Ron, Harry and I went to find Bill, Charlie, Fred and George.

Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.

"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told us the Sunday evening before we were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

Mrs. Weasley glanced at the clock in the corner. I liked this clock. It was completely useless if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise very informative. It had 17 golden hands (Apparently it used to be a lot smaller and had only nine hands), and each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names (Plus the flock). There were no numbers around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. "Home," "school," and "work" were there, but there was also "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, "mortal peril."

16 of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work." Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first -"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me -"

"No, Mum." Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, Wolfie was reading some old book Ginny had given her, I was staring out the window looking at the rain, Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

"What are you two up to?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.

"Homework," said George vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said Fred

"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," said George, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and Fred and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?" Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again. Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling"; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room.

"What are you two **really** up to?" I asked

"We'll tell you later, mum might overhear if we tell you now!" Fred whispered with a grin. A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mrs. Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly.

"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Mr. Weasley irritably. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.

"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants -"

"His slave, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising passionately, "because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said , breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you. . . ."

Wolfie and I slowly made our way up to our bedroom.

"Did you finish packing?" she asked

"Don't be stupid, you know I never started packing let alone finished." I said

"Why do you always leave everything to the last minute?"

"I just don't like working hard." I shrugged as I opened the door. The pair of us continued packing (or rather, Wolfie continued packing I **started **packing)

"What's this?" I said picking up an old box next to my trunk. Wolfie looked next to hers and held up a similar looking box, I opened my box to find an old purplish coloured dress with a thin see through black thing over the top. It had long black sleeves and was like one of those pencil skirts that Nudge loved so much and puffed out at the bottom.

"What is that supposed to be?" I asked turning to find Wolfie looking at a puffy gold princess style dress with long puffy sleeves with a load of fake dimonds around the skirt part, she had a look of terror on her face.

"It's a crime against my eyes!" she exclaimed turning to me we both burst out laughing as we held them up to each other. There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Weasley entered, carrying an armful of freshly washed Hogwarts robes.

"Here you are," she said, sorting them into two piles. "Now, mind you pack them properly so they don't crease."

"Mrs Weasley, you've given me Ginny's History of Magic homework," said Wolfie, handing it out to her.

"Of course I haven't," said Mrs. Weasley laughing. "That's for you. Dress robes."

"What?" I was seriously questioning her sanity

"Dress robes!" repeated Mrs. Weasley. "It says on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year. . . robes for formal occasions."  
"You've got to be kidding," Wolfie muttered in disbelief.  
"Everyone wears them, dear!" said Mrs. Weasley seeming to mistake Wolfie's disgust for embarressment "They're all like that! I've got some for smart parties!" She gave Wolfie a small smile as she left the room.

"I'll go starkers before I put that on," said Wolfie stubbornly.

"I'm not wearing that, no way." I agreed

"Hey! I bet Nudge and Ron and all that will have some too!"

"Wonder if they're as bad as ours..."

"I certainly hope so, I need **someone** else to laugh at, yours isn't that bad apart from the bottom and the sleeves!" We rushed out the room towards Nudge and Ginny's room.

We went in to find Nudge staring in horror at pink dress which was lying on her bed, it was light pink and white with a lot of frills a lace on it, the skirt was princess style just like Wolfie's and the sleeves were pink and frilly at the top then underneath was white sleeves that went to her wrists then down to her ankles. Ginny on the other hand had a dress that looked a bit like a pink tank top/shirt at the top with a white belt around the middle and then a load of green frills as a skirt.

"The frills have frills!" Wolfie exclaimed through laughter

"It's not funny! I can't be seen wearing something like that!" Nudge shouted

"You may not have to, we don't know what they're for. It could be optional or something." I said but my attempt to be reasuring was destroyed by my giggles.

Nudge yelled at us angrily and chased us out the room, Wolfie and I left in fits of laughter and made or way to Ron and Harry's room.

Mrs Weasley was in there glaring at Ron. We nearly died from laughter at the sight of Ron's dress robes. They looked like an old maroon dress with a moldy lace coller and cuffs. Harry's wasn't that bad though, they were more or less the same as his school ones, except that they were black instead of grey and had a bow tie rather than a gryffindor one.

"I'm never wearing them," Ron was saying stubbornly. "Never."

"Fine," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "Go naked. And, Harry, make sure you get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh." She left the room, slamming the door behind her. Wolfie, Harry and I burst into fits of laughter as Ron glared at us. There was a funny spluttering noise from behind them. Pigwidgeon was choking on an overlarge Owl Treat.

"Why is everything I own rubbish?" said Ron furiously, striding across the room to unstick Pigwidgeon's beak.

There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when I got up the next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as I got dressed in jeans and a hoodie.

"Arthur!" Mrs Weasley called up the staircase. "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley came clattering past with his robes on back-to-front and hurtled out of sight. When we entered the kitchen, we saw Mrs. Weasley rummaging anxiously in the drawers - "I've got a quill here somewhere!" - and Mr. Weasley bending over the fire, talking to -I shut my eyes hard and opened them again to make sure that they were working properly.

Amos Diggory's head was sitting in the middle of the flames like a large, bearded egg. It was talking very fast.". . . Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems - please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there -"

"Here!" said Mrs. Weasley breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a crumpled quill into Mr. Weasley's hands.

"- it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it," said Mr. Diggory's head. "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off - if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur -"

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Mr. Weasley, unscrewing the ink bottle, loading up his quill, and preparing to take notes. Mr. Diggory's head rolled its eyes.

"Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins."

"What did the dustbins do?" asked Mr. Weasley, scribbling frantically.

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," said "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up -"

Mr. Weasley groaned. "And what about the intruder?"

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling its eyes again. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it - think of his record - we've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department - what are exploding dustbins worth?"

"Might be a caution," said Mr. Weasley, still writing very fast, his brow furrowed.

"Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?"

"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window," said Mr. Diggory, "but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties."

"All right, I'm off," Mr. Weasley said, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashed out of the kitchen again. Mr. Diggory's head looked around at Mrs. Weasley.

"Sorry about this, Molly," it said, more calmly, "bothering you so early and everything...but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today. Why he had to choose last night. ."

"Never mind, Amos," said Mrs. Weasley. "Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?"

"Oh go on, then," said Mr. Diggory. Mrs. Weasley took a piece of buttered toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs, and transferred it into Mr. Diggory's mouth.

"Fanks," he said in a muffled voice, and then, with a small pop, vanished. I could hear Mr. Weasley calling hurried good-byes to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Ginny. Within five minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair.

"I'd better hurry - you have a good term, kids!" said Mr. Weasley to me, Wolfie, Harry, Ron, and the twins, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

"Of course I will," she said. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine." As Mr. Weasley vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen.

"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked. "What's he been up to now."

"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter -"

"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," said Mrs. Weasley sternly.

"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" he said quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room. "Birds of a feather. . ."

"Moody was a great wizard in his time," said Bill.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" said Charlie.

"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" said Fred. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything.. ."

"Who is Mad-Eye?" asked Harry.

"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," said Charlie. "I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror - one of the best. . . a Dark wizard catcher," he added, seeing Harry's blank look "Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though. . . the families of people he caught, mainly. . .and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere." Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told them. "Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me."

"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."

Mrs. Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take them into London.

The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that we were jammed in the back of the taxis with our trunks. We were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and we got soaked carrying our trunks across the busy road and into the station.

The Hogwarts Express was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. we set off to find seats, and were soon stowing our luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. We then hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Why?" said Fred keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it.. . it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

"Why?" said George impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."

"A bit of what?" said Ron but at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with. . . one thing and another."

"Mum!" said Ron irritably.

"What d'you three know that we don't?" I asked as impatiently as George had

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"

"What rules?" said me, Harry, Ron, Fred, Wolfie and George together. Weird.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. . . . Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George? West?"

"Thanks guys, now I'm counted as a trouble maker, I'll kill you two!" I muttered as we walked towards our compartment

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Wolfie bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from us. "What rules are they changing?" But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved.

Wolfie, Fred, George, Lee Jordan and I were sharing a compartment, there was another compartment between Harry, Ron, and Hermione and us.

". . . Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do. . . ." Malfoy's voice out from that compartment

I got up, walked to the compartment door, and slammed it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" I said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Wolfie.

"Yes," said I, "and it's got a horrible reputation, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've heard of it," said Fred vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?"

"Er - why not?" Lee asked

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets,"

"Come off it," said Fred, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts - how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"But Hogwarts is hidden," I said "Everyone knows that.. . well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."

"Just you and Hermione, then," said George. "So go on - how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?"

"It's bewitched. If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE."

"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"

"Maybe," I shrugged "or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable -"

"Come again?" said Lee

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"

"Er. . . if you say so," he said

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," I said "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Wolfie dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident... . Shame his mother likes him. . ."

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday.

Wolfie was halfway through a heated argument with Lee when she froze and her eyes glazed over just like that divination lesson last year. She was having a vision. Lee, Fred and George looked at her with worried expressions on their faces. My curiosity got the better of me, I reached out and touched her shoulder.

_Just like before there was a flash but I didn't end up in some randome house, this time I ended up near the lake at Hogwarts. It was dark, like the middle of the night dark, I was standing near Aloha, she was staring out at the lake, she was younger than the last vision, like about sixteen or seventeen, she was the only ones out there. _

_"Aloha?" Tommy's voice came from behind me, I turned to see him walking towards Aloha._

_"Go to hell Lestrange!" Aloha snarled glaring at Tommy, she rubbed her arms as she tried to warm herself up. She was out in the middle of the night wearing a dark purple tank top and a thin off the shoulder jumper. Not very sensible, her jeans were okay though. Tommy was a bit smarter in his choice of clothing. Baggy jeans, black t-shirt, red hoodie._

_"Aloha, I'm sorry-" Tommy started but Aloha cut him off. She stood up and glared at him with so much hate and hurt that I thought I must be imagining it._

_"I know you're 'sorry'! You say you're sorry every time we meet but you know what? I don't care, I thought we were friends but no, you lied to me, you broke your promise and I want nothing more to do with you!"_

_"Aloha please! I just-"_

_"SHUT UP!" Aloha screamed "You can't trust me? Well guess what, I take back what I said, I __**can't **__trust you! I agree with you mother, you're an untrustworthy, emotionless waste of space! I hope your bio parents find you! I hope Voldemort kills you! Just as long as I don't have to look at your stupid face ever again!" Tommy's eyes went wide and his mouth formed an O shape as he stared at Aloha_

_"You don't mean that... You're just angry..." He muttered_

_"Am I?" Aloha continued to glare at him_

_"Just come inside, we can talk about this-"_

_"I said shut up! You don't know how much it hurt to know that you'd lied to me, you don't know how it felt to know that after everything we've been through you don't trust me or how angry I was that you broke your promise." Tommy stared at Aloha, his eyes a mixture of emotions "And you have no idea how much I hate you." _

_Aloha pulled her wand out and held it to Tommy's head. "If your parents can't kill you I will."_

I pulled away from Wolfie as she jumped when they vision ended, I was shocked at what I had just seen and heard.

"I need to see a nurse or something, I've got a really bad headach." She said

"Here I'll help you find someone," I said. The second we got out the compartment Wolfie turned and headed towards Harry, Ron and Hermione's compartment. They were the only ones in there but it looked like they'd had visitors.

"Wolfie, West! What are you doing here?" Hermione asked looking up from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.

"Wolfie's had another vision." I said as we sat down, I explained what happened while Wolfie recovered from whatever it was that she needed recovering from.

"It was bizzare, I don't understand why they were arguing! What did Tommy lie to her about? What promise did he make? What's this big secret he won't tell her? What happened after she held her wand to his head? She couldn't have killed him because I've seen him when he was in his twenties and he was still at school, if what he'd done was so bad then why is Aloha still friends with him now?" Wolfie muttered staring out the window

"Wolfie, you are giving me a headache, please just drop it. Tommy was a strange bloke, we get it. But we may never know what happened." Ron said,

"I am going to write to Aloha, ask her." Wolfie muttered "Anyone got a peice of parchment and a quill?" At that moment the conversation ceased as Dean, Seamus and Neville came into the compartment.

"Not interupting anything are we?" Neville asked nervously, the compartment was pretty crowded as we talked about the Cup match. Wolfie and Hermione looked very bored.

"Gran didn't want to go," Neville said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was," said Ron. "Look at this, Neville. . ." He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.

"Oh wow," said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his hand.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box -"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley." Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly.

"Weasley. . . what is that?" said Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious. Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety. . .

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

"So. . . going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know. . . you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won. . . ."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4. A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago. . . heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry. . . . Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley. . . yes.. . they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him. . . ." Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared. Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well.. . making it look like he knows everything and we don't.. . ." Ron snarled. "Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry.'. . . Dad could've got a promotion any time... he just likes it where he is. . . ."

"Of course he does," said Hermione quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron -"

"Him! Get to me!? As if!" said Ron. Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk much as we changed into we school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station. Wolfie spent the whole ride in a little world on her own.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as we left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over our heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!" Apparently first years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione shivering. A hundred carriages stood waiting for them outside the station, they were pulled by weird looking horses. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Wolfie climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.

"Hey West, what was that all about on the train? Is Wolfie alright?" Fred asked running over with Lee and George.

"Wolfie just had a headach, she went to ask Hermione if she knew what to do when you got a headach on the train." I told him

"Then why didn't you come back? I-We were getting worried." George said climbing into a carriage, Fred, Lee and I followed

"Dean, Neville and Seamus showed up and we got into a conversation about the Cup." I shrugged

"It's cold." Lee stated probably feeling left out.

"No, you're kidding! It's like a sauna out here in this icy excus for rain." I said shivering

We jumped down from our carriage and dashed up the steps, looking up only when we were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," said Fred, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soaked!"

"ARRGH!" Ron's yell made us turn and look at him.

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his trainers and into his socks. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Floating about twenty feet above them, was Peeves the Poltergeist, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again. Wolfie laughed at the look on Ron's face.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch - sorry, Miss Granger -"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves -" Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

We slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face. This would be my first start of term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. We sat down at the Gryffindor table, me in between Wolfie and George.

"Good evening," Nearly Headless Nick said, appearing out the middle of the table.

"Says who?" said Harry, taking off his trainers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."

The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, I had never seen one, none of the flock had and I was interested to see how it would differ from our minature one last year. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table.

"Hiya, Harry!" I had absolutly no idea who he was but apparently Harry, Ron and Hermione did as each of them groaned at the sound of his voice.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er - good," said Harry.

"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er - yeah, all right," said Harry "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" he said.

"Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Ron, who was looking up at the teachers. Acording to Harry, they had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

"Oh hurry up," Harry said "I could eat a hippogriff."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school - all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he was draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, I fell in the lake!

He looked positively delighted about it.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, the annoying hat from last year. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

"A thousand years or more ago, When I was newly sewn, There lived four wizards of renown, Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, They hatched a daring plan To educate young sorcerers Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders Formed their own house, for each Did value different virtues In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were Prized far beyond the rest; For Ravenclaw, the cleverest Would always be the best; For Hufflepuff, hard workers were Most worthy of admission; And power-hungry Slytherin Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide Their favorites from the throng, Yet how to pick the worthy ones When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way, He whipped me off his head The founders put some brains in me So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears, I've never yet been wrong, I'll have a look inside your mind And tell where you belong!" The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"Great, the hat sings now, that's just brilliant!" I muttered, George chuckled

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," said Harry

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one." Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!" A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat. Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!" The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!" Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?" Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff.

"Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Ron.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?" Apparently Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row. Don't know how we managed it with Fred, Lee and George in our house.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended.

Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

"About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically. That was cool.

"I've decided, all dishes should do that." Wolfie said grabbing handfuls of everything

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak.

"Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly. "So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits-"

Clang.

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick.

"They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning.. . see to the fires and so on.. . . I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?" Hermione stared at him.

"But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Arry -" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor." And she refused to eat another bite. I happily ate her share of dinner though.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Chocolate gateau!" But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it. As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped.

Fred and George were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbhedore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

Of course they choose that exact moment to stop Dumbledore's speech.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. The lightning had allowed me to get a look at the man's face. It looked as though it belonged in a horror movie. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all you could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbhedore shook it. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred loudly, standing up and staring at Dumbledore.

"Shut up Fred!" I said sharply leaning across George and yanking him back into his seat. "Teach your twin to behave." I muttered to George.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time.. . no. . ." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament. . . well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely." Everyone listened regardless of whether they knew about it or not. Guess we all know what Bill, Charlie and all that were hiding.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities -until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "None of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. I rolled my eyes, of course Fred would want to put himself in such a ridiculous contest.

"Eager though I know all of you will be, to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" - Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" said George, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table.

"The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons. . ."

"Do ever think anything else other than getting money?" I asked glaring at the twins and Ron.

"I don't like the sound of this full stop exclamation mark, why would you willingly put yourself in danger? I've been trying to **avoid **doing that my whole life!" Wolfie exclaimed

"I agree, well dolop heads? What's your excus for entering a competition that had to be cancelled due to the amount of deaths?" I asked, Fred and George glared.

"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

We set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George.. ."

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said George shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older... Dunno if we've learned enough.. ."

"If any of you are stupid enough to enter I'll hold a sign up saying 'Please get killed'." Wolfie said

"You wouldn't really do that!" said Harry

"She will and I will make the sign for her." I said, Wolfie nodded her head.

"Oh come on West, it'd be loads of fun!" said Lee

"Well that's a bit masochistic of you." I sent him a glare that clearly said 'You're not helping, shut up before I make you!'

"Password?" the Fat Lady said as we approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me." A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, "Slave labor" she muttered before bidding us good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory. Wolfie ran after her in attempt to stop her newly found hunger strike.

"You guys are being rediculous! And Harry, I expected better from you! Eturnal glory? Don't you have enough of that already? Didn't you say you hated being famous? Even entering this stupid contest will get you more publicity especialy since you're not 17!" I glared at them, Harry hung his head. He knew I was right.

"Well a bit of money can't hurt, can it?" Ron said with a shrug

"And I suppose being physicaly hurt doesn't count as actual pain huh?"

"You're just worried one of us will actualy get in and be hurt aren't you? You love ussssss sooooooo much that you're scared for us!" Fred laughed

"I'm not scared **for **you, I'm scared what your **mother **would do if I let her sons and their best friends enter a competition where death is a high possiblity and pain even higher!" I snapped at him

"You really don't like the tournament huh?" Lee said

"No I do not! It's stupid, I'd rather you lot did quiddich any day! At least they didn't have to bann that the death toll was so high!"

"Well if it makes you feel better I won't enter." George said, I gave him a funny look, so did Fred.

"What do you mean you won't enter? Tell me you're joking!" Fred exclaimed

"Well I don't want to make mum worry!"

"Since when?" George hesitated

"Since eh since when she got worried about us."

"I don't beleive you." Fred crossed his arms and stared at his twin

"You're not scared are you?" Lee said

"No, I just think our friendship with Wolfie and West is more important than some tornament. Even if it is the Triwizard Tournament."

"See! Why can't you be more like George?" I said glaring at them

"Come on! Can't we at least try?" Fred said

"Go on then, find a way to enter, I can't wait to see what'll happen to you. Dumbledore said that he would be **personaly **ensuring that this judge isn't swayed."

"She has a point." Harry pointed out, I smirked triumphantly

"Well how would **you **enter if you wanted to?" asked Ron

"Isn't it obvious? You just get someone of age to put your name in the cup for you and since I gave that idea you can't use it, think of your own way." I told them

"You're so mean!" George whined

"Yeah! Why do you do this to us?" asked Fred, also whineing

"Your **best friends**!" Lee added

"Goodnight boys." I went up to the girls dorm.

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of gray swirled overhead as we all examined their new course schedules at breakfast.

"Today's not bad.. . outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures... damn it, we're still with the Slytherins. . . ."

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down.

"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah. . . and you were hungry," said Ron, grinning.

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed.

We went to our first class where Professor Sprout showed us plants that looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"

"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. We caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end." A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; us heading down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As we drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached our ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" said Ron. Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender, jumping backward. "Eurgh" just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in my opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice. The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

"He has a good point." I muttered

"Do not agree with the enemy!" Wolfie said Dramaticaly

"I mean, what do they do?" asked Malfoy. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made us pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Wolfie couldn't stop herself from telling us that she got the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn't seem to have mouths.

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me." Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious. "Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically, Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box. "I reckon they're the males. . . . The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies. . . . I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Malfoy sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

"Again, a good point." I said

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Wolfie snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?" I shrugged, I wouldn't mind a dragon for a pet.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

"They are now," said Hermione in an exasperated voice, "but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" said Ron, grinning slyly at her. We sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped Ourselves to lamb chops and potatoes.

After lunch we had Divination. Fun. Curse Wolfie for making me pick this subject, she seems to think this class will help us deal with her visions.

"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney "You are preoccupied, my dear," she said mournfully to Harry. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas. . . most difficult.. . I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass. . . and perhaps sooner than you think..." Ron and Harry rolled their eyes, pretty used to her antics by now..

Half an hour later, each of us had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.

"I've got two Neptunes here," said Harry after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, "that can't be right, can it?"

"Aaaaah," I said, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry!" Wolfie glared at the midget comment, I wasn't much taller than her but the fact that I was made me want to annoy her about it

"Oh Professor, look! I think I've got an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one's that, Professor?" Lavender shouted excitedly

"It is Uranus, my dear," said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart.

"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?" said Ron.

At the end of the lesson we were told to make a 'detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart,' and we have to have it 'ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!'.

Well that's my weekend gone.

We reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. We had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind them.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!" Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

"What?" said Ron shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear.

"Listen to this! FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC! It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office." Malfoy looked up. "Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on: "Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene. And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?" Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry. "C'mon, Ron. . ."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Harry "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink.

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away.

BANG!

Several people screamed, there was a second band followed by a yell.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!" Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry - at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled.

"No," said Harry, "missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave - what?" Harry said, bewildered.

"Not you - him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..." The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Never - do - that - again -" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What - what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," said Moody.

"Teach - Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," said Moody.

"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall wealdy. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock -"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy... . You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son. . . you tell him that from me. . . . Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape. . . Come on, you. . ." And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons. Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

"Don't talk to me," Wolfie said as we sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.

"Why not?" said Hermione in surprise.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," said Wolfie, her eyes closed and an uplifted expression on her face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret."

"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," Hermione said. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -"

"Hermione!" said Ron furiously, "you're ruining the best moment of my life!"

"Moody!" Fred said, suddenly apearing between me and Wolfie "How cool is he?"

"Beyond cool," said George, sitting down on my other side.

"Supercool," said Lee sitting across from me "We had him this afternoon," he told us "What was it like?" said Harry eagerly. Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.

"Never had a lesson like it," said Fred.

"He knows, man," said Lee.

"Knows what?" said Ron, leaning forward.

"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," said George impressively.

"Doing what?" said Harry.

"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Fred.

"He's seen it all," said George.

"Amazing," said Lee. Ron dived into his bag for his schedule.

"We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a disappointed voice.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry it took so long, really I am! But exams have been on a lot, so I wrote when I could. But it is completed! Hope you enjoy ~Darnet.**

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" said Ron to Blade, Harry and I as we watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Moody."

It was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. Snape had disliked all of the previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it - but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody. Indeed, whenever I saw the two of them together -at mealtimes, or when they passed in the corridors - I had the distinct impression that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," I said thoughtfully.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," said Ron, his eyes misting over, "and bounced him all around his dungeon..."

The Gryffindor fourth years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that we all arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

"Been in the -"

"Library." I finished her sentence for her. "C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."

Hermione, Ron and Harry hurried into three chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, Blade and I rolled our eyes and sat behind them, we took out our copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet.

Soon we heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. We could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

We returned the books to their bags, Ron looking excited.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

"Right then," he said, when the last person had declared themselves, present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time I had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago. .. . Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favour to Dumbledore. . . . One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.

"So . . do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.

"Er," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one.. . . Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. I saw Ron recoil slightly next to Harry - Ron hated spiders.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that we could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio!"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly and then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody and me, I was having serious flashbacks.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?" The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself and throw itself down one of your throats. . ." Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody, and I knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so, to my slight surprise, did Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Your name's Longbottom?" he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretence, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but I was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently - "Stop it!" I yelled, my eyes closed tight, pictures of whitecoats and Erasers running through my brain.

Everyone turned, when I opened my eyes I saw they were looking at me, Neville wasn't, his eyes were wide as he stared at the table. Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. . . . That one was very popular once too. Right. . . anyone know any others?"

I looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, I guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. My hand shook slightly as, for the first time, I raised it into the air.

"Yes?" said Moody, looking at me.

"Avada Kedavra," I whispered.

Several people looked uneasily around at me, including Ron.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra. .. The Killing Curse." He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface. I was reminded of the experiment's, that's what they were like when they had no hope left, when they knew they were going to be killed. Moody raised his wand, and I looked at Harry.

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him. Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no counter curse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

I saw Harry's face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his. I could feel everyone else looking around at him too. Harry stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it."

"Now, if there's no counter curse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

"Now. . . those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills. . . copy this down. . ."

We spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed us and we had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices - "Did you see it twitch?" "- and when he killed it - just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson, I thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but I hadn't found it very entertaining - and nor, it seemed, had Hermione, Blade and Harry.

"Hurry up," Hermione said tensely to us.

"Not the ruddy library again?" said Ron.

"No," said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville." Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Neville?" I said gently. Neville looked around.

"Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Neville, are you all right?" I asked.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"

Ron gave us a startled look.

"Neville, what - ?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind us, and we turned to see Professor Moody limping toward us. All six of us fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than we had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on. . . we can have a cup of tea. . . ." Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

"You all right, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, almost defiantly.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending . . . well.. . Come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville looked pleadingly at us, but we didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

"What was that about?" said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't know," said Hermione, looking pensive.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" said Ron to us as we set off for the Great Hall. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right -"

But Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face and didn't speak again until

We reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed we'd had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since they would take hours.

Hermione did not join in with our conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast, and then left for the library again. We walked back to Gryffindor Tower,

"Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" Harry asked as they approached the Fat Lady.

"Yeah, probably," said Ron. "But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later - look at his dustbins. Balderdash." The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.

"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" said Harry.

"I s'pose," Ron groaned.

Blade and I went up to our dorm, I dug through my trunk, I was still a bit shaken form DADA and I wasn't in the mood for talking, but apparently Blade was,

"Are you ok, you just had a funny reaction during that lesson?"

"I'm fine."

"Well are you sure."

"Yes I am fine, let's just get our books." Blade didn't look but picked up her book. We took our copies of Unfogging the Future back down to the common room, found a table, and set to work on our predictions for the coming month, Ron and Harry joining us. An hour later, we had made very little progress, though our table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, and my brain was as fogged as though it had been filled with the fumes from Professor Trelawney's fire.

"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," I said, staring down at a long list of calculations.

"You know," said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."

"What - make it up?" Blade asked

"Yeah," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

"Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at us. "You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."

"Right," said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "Okay. . . on Monday, I will be in danger of- er - burns."

"Yeah, you will be," said Ron darkly, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday.

"Okay, Tuesday, I'll. . . erm. ." Blade started

"Lose a treasured possession," said Harry, who was flicking through Unfogging the Future for ideas.

"Good one," said she, copying it down. "Because of... erm. . . Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend Wolfie?"

"Yeah. . . cool. . ." said I, scribbling it down, "because... Venus is in the twelfth house."

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight." Harry said

"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet." I suggested

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight. .." he laughed

We continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around them slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to us, leapt lightly into my lap, and stared inscrutably at Harry, rather as Hermione might look if she knew we weren't doing their homework properly.

Staring around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune I hadn't yet used, I saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden away in a corner and working silently; they usually liked to be in the thick of things and the noisy centre of attention. There was something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment, and I was reminded of how they had sat together writing something back at the Burrow. I had thought then that it was another order form for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but it didn't look like that this time; if it had been, they would surely have let Lee Jordan in on the joke. I wondered whether it had anything to do with entering the Triwizard Tournament.

As I watched, George shook his head at Fred, scratched out something with his quill, and said, in a very quiet voice that nevertheless carried across the almost deserted room, "No - that sounds like we're accusing him. Got to be careful. . ."

Then George looked over and saw I watching him. I grinned and quickly returned to my predictions – I didn't want George to think I was eavesdropping. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.

Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheet of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

Hermione sat down; laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks went of my lap curled up in hers.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.

I laid down my quill too, having just finished predicting my own death by decapitation.

"What's in the box?" Blade asked, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask," said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed us the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colours, but all bearing the same letters: S. P. E .W.

"Spew?" said I, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you lot join - five," said Hermione.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheet of parchment at us.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione - open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do we do all this?" Blade asked.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join -that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting. Blade and Wolfie can hand out leaflets and stuff, Blade could get Lee and the twins to join!"

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at us , and I sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron's face. The silence was broken, not by Ron or Blade, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harry looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig!" he shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions.

"About time!" said Harry, hurrying after her.

"She's got an answer!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.

Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry.

Harry read it aloud:

Harry – we are flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumours that have reached us here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore -they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.

We'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron, Hermione, Wolfie and West. Keep your eyes open, Harry.- Sirius and Alo,

Harry looked up at us, we stared back at him.

"They're flying north?" Hermione whispered. "They're coming back?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed. "Harry - what's up?"

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.

"I shouldn't've told them!" Harry said furiously.

"What are you on about?" said Ron in surprise.

"It's made them think they've got to come back!" said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on my shoulder, hooting indignantly; I petted her trying to calm her down. "Coming back, because they think I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you," Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."

Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.

"Harry," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.

"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly. "See you in the morning." He walked up the stairs, we cast a worried looks at each other,

"I'll go up." Said Ron grabbing their homework and heading for the boys dorm,

"We best be off as well." I said, Blade and Hermione nodded, we went to bed. I lay awake silently, if Sirius and Alo came back, what would happen to them?

-o-O-o-

"That was a lie, Harry," said Hermione sharply over breakfast, when Harry told us the letter he had sent to Sirius and Alo. "You didn't imagine your scar hurting and you know it."

"So what?" said Harry. "They're not going back to Azkaban because of me."

"Drop it," said Ron sharply to Hermione as she opened her mouth to argue some more, and for once, Hermione heeded him, and fell silent.

I did my best not to worry about Sirius and Alo over the next couple of weeks. True, I could not stop myself from looking anxiously around every morning when the post owls arrived, nor, late at night before I went to sleep, preventing myself from seeing horrible visions of Sirius and Alo, cornered by dementor's down some dark London street.

On the other hand, our lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, particularly Moody's Defence Against the Dark Arts.

To our surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of us in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether we could resist its effects.

"But - but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said - to use it against another human was -"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swivelling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way - when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely - fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Harry and I grinned at each other. We knew Hermione would rather eat bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them.

I watched as, one by one, my classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem.

Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

"Miss Weasley," Moody growled, "you next."

I moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at me, and said, 'Imperio!"

It was the most wonderful feeling. I felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in my head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. I stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching me.

And then I heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of my empty brain: Jump onto the desk. . . jump onto the desk. . .

I bent my knees obediently, preparing to spring.

Jump onto the desk...

Why, though? Another voice had awoken in the back of my brain.

Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice.

Jump onto the desk...

No, I don't think I will, thanks, said the other voice, a little more firmly . . . no, I don't really want to.

Jump! NOW!

The next thing I felt was considerable pain. I had both jumped and tried to prevent myself from jumping - the result was that I'd smashed headlong into the desk knocking it over, and, by the feeling in my legs, fractured both my kneecaps.

"Now, that's more like it!" growled Moody's voice, and suddenly, I felt the empty, echoing feeling in my head disappear. I remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in my knees seemed to double.

"Look at that, you lot. . . Weasley fought! She fought it, and she damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Weasley, and the rest of you, pay attention - watch her eyes, that's where you see it - very good, Weasley, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!"

"The way he talks," I muttered as I hobbled out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Moody had insisted on putting me through my paces four times in a row, until I could throw off the curse entirely), "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."

"Yeah, I know," said Ron, who was skipping on every alternate step. He had had much more difficulty with the curse than I had, though Moody assured him the effects would wear off by lunchtime. "Talk about paranoid. . ." Ron glanced nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot and went on. "No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him on April Fools' Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"

All the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work we were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told us, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer -"

"We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" said Dean Thomas indignantly.

"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!" Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself.

Harry, Ron, Blade and I were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told us that we had received top marks for our homework in our next Divination class. She read out large portions of our predictions, commending us for our unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store - but we were less amused when she asked us to do the same thing for the month after next; all of us were running out of ideas for catastrophes.

Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had us writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing us to research antidotes. We took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of us before Christmas to see if our antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked us to read three extra books in preparation for our lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Hagrid was adding to our workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of our "project," suggested that we come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior.

"I will not," said Draco Malfoy flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks." Hagrid's smile faded off his face.

"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," He growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book. . . . I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy."

The Gryffindor's roared with laughter. Malfoy flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Moody's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him from retorting.

We returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Malfoy was particularly satisfying, especially because Malfoy had done his very best to get Hagrid sacked the previous year.

When we arrived in the entrance hall, we found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Ron, the tallest of us, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of us and read the sign aloud:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY - "Brilliant!" said Harry. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!" We all grinned,

STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.

"Only a week away!" said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him. . . ."

"Cedric?" said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off.

"Diggory," said Harry. "He must be entering the tournament."

"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" said Ron said as we pushed out way through the crowd.

"He's not an idiot!" I said,

"You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," said Hermione. "I've heard he's a really good student - and he's a prefect." She spoke as though this settled the matter.

"You only like him because he's handsome," said Ron scathingly.

"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" said Hermione indignantly.

Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like "Lockhart!" Blade and I knew who he was, but both looked at each other in confusion.

The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where I went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

I noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning.

Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armour were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too.

"Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.

When we went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, we found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Blade sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor table and the rest of us followed. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices. Blade led the way over to them.

"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred. "But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever."

"Who's avoiding you?" said Blade, sitting down next to them.

"Wish you would," said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked George.

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," said George.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said George bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Ron thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before. . . ."

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Fred. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" I asked.

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

She noticed we were all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, "It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."

"What are you on about?" said Ron, though I thought I knew what was coming.

"House-elves!" said Hermione, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!"

I shook my head and applied myself to my scrambled eggs. Our lack of enthusiasm had done nothing whatsoever to curb Hermione's determination to pursue justice for house-elves.

True, we had all paid two Sickles for a S.P.E.W. badge, but we had only done it to keep her quiet. Our Sickles had been wasted, however; if anything, we seemed to have made Hermione more vociferous. She had been badgering us ever since, first to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.

"You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?" she kept saying fiercely.

Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke.

Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge). George, however, leaned in toward Hermione.

"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?"

"No, of course not," said Hermione curtly, "I hardly think students are supposed to -"

"Well, we have," said George, indicating Fred, "loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world -"

"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. I looked up at once, and saw Hedwig soaring toward Harry. Hermione stopped talking abruptly; we watched Hedwig anxiously as she fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder, folded her wings, and held out her leg wearily.

Harry pulled off Sirius's reply and offered Hedwig his bacon rinds, which she ate gratefully. Then, checking that Fred and George were safely immersed in further discussions about the Triwizard Tournament, Harry read out Sirius's letter in a whisper us.

_Nice try, Harry._

_We're back in the country and well hidden. We want you to keep us posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about us, just watch out for yourself Don't forget what I said about your scar._

_- Sirius and Alo_

"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked in a low voice.

"Hedwig will attract too much attention," said Hermione at once. "She stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he's hiding. . . I mean, they're not native birds, are they?"

Harry rolled up the letter and slipped it inside his robes, I was wondering whether if I felt more or less worried than before. I supposed that Sirius and Alo managing to get back without being caught was something. I couldn't deny either that the idea that Sirius and Alo where much nearer was reassuring for some reason.

"Thanks, Hedwig," Harry said, stroking her. She hooted sleepily, dipped her beak briefly into Harry's goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery.

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, we hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited our bags and books as we had been instructed, pulled on our cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair." Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

"Follow me, please," said Professor McGonagall. "First years in front. . . no pushing.."

We filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. I was standing between Harry and Blade in the fourth row from the front, saw Dennis Creevey positively shivering with anticipation among the other first years.

"Nearly six," said Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," said Hermione.

"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

"I don't think so. . . not from that far away.. ." Blade said

"A Portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could Apparate - maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" said Hermione impatiently. I tried not to giggle, she says it a lot.

We scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. I was starting to feel cold, my toes where numb and I kept glancing up at the sky in hope something would appear. I wish they'd hurry up. .. . Maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance. . . . I remembered what Mr. Weasley had said back at the campsite before the Quidditch World Cup:

"always the same - we can't resist showing off when we get together. .."

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers -

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest. I looked over excitedly, something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid. . . it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey. Dennis' guess was closer. . . . As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, I saw a gigantic, powderblue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward us, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

I just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then I saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of one of the Weasley children's sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman I had ever seen in my life (and growing up in a mad scientist lab you see a lot of weird things). The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; we followed his lead, some broke into applause too, many of the students standing on tiptoe, to get a better look at the woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said, I couldn't help but smile, oh how Max would hate being called that name. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dort," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

I turned, my attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now I noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what I could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime's enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses -"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"Skrewts," Ron muttered to us, grinning.

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job.

"Zey are very strong. . . ."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps. Each student eyeing the outsiders with great interest.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus Finnigan said, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Harry and Ron. Ignoring Blade, Hermione and myself.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," said Harry. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped," said Ron hopefully. I glared at Ron, they were animals after all.

"Oh don't say that," said Hermione with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds. . . ." I rolled my eyes.

We stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then - "Can you hear something?" said Blade suddenly.

I listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward us from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed.

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

From our position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, we had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks - and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor. .

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool. . . and then I saw the rigging...

"It's a mast!" I said to Ron, Harry, Blade and Hermione.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, I heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; I could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them, I noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle... but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, I saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle

I saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and I noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd, it was like one of the scientist. "How good it is to be here, how good.. . . Viktor, come along, into the warmth. . . you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, I caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. I didn't need the punch on the arm Blade gave me, or the hiss in my ear from Ron, to recognize that profile.

"It's Krum!"

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